


Paper Moon

by robotsnchicks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amnesia, Baby's First Blow Job, Frottage, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Light Sci-Fi, M/M, Minor Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Oral Sex, Pining Dean Winchester, Soft Dean Winchester, Virtual Reality, brief marijuana use, canon-typical alcohol use and abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 16:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18014399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robotsnchicks/pseuds/robotsnchicks
Summary: By the time he hits thirty-three, Dean's given up on the apple pie life, accepting that a serious relationship isn't in the cards for him. But when he meets Cas everything falls into place. Now he’s happily married, hopelessly in love, and they’re about to buy their first home together. It almost feels too good to be true.It turns out it is. His world comes crashing down when he wakes to find that he’s been a subject in a virtual reality simulation gone wrong. All the years he thought he spent with Cas were actually experienced in less than a week. And when he gets out, Cas is nowhere to be found and nobody has heard of him. Ignoring the possibility that Cas may not be real, Dean sets out to find him and convince him that it’s worth giving Dean — and their relationship — a shot in the real world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hoo boy I can't believe it is time to post this! First I need to thank some people - My wonderful artist [Josh Pineapple](https://joshpineapple.tumblr.com/) who is beyond talented and was a joy to work with. [noxlee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxlee/pseuds/noxlee), my friend and beta who did an absolutely amazing job of helping me whip this story into shape, my other friend [WingsandImpalas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingsandImpalas/pseuds/WingsandImpalas), who helped me hammer out some of the plot details, and also the wonderful [Nadia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiaHart/profile) and fantastic [Captain Haterade](https://captainhaterade.tumblr.com/) who did a final read thru for me and gave me the confidence to post this.  
> Thank you all!

_Say it’s only a paper moon_

_Sailing over a cardboard sea_

_But it wouldn’t be make believe_

_If you believed in me_

 

 

The front door opens right as Dean is removing the last batch of french fries from the oil. He dances his way over to the radio and turns Led Zeppelin down to a soft backdrop as he pats the excess oil off the fries. The air in the kitchen is heavy with the smell of grease and Dean can't resist stealing a fry. Fat and salt shouldn’t smell or taste so good. He licks the salt off his lips and turns around for his customary kiss, but Cas is frowning at him from the doorway instead.

“Wasn’t it my turn to cook tonight?”

“So? Can’t I do something nice for my husband?”

“Hmm.” Cas narrows his eyes at the hand-cut fries. “You made them from scratch?”

Dean grins and throws an arm around him, kissing him on the cheek. “What? Worried you forgot our anniversary?”

Cas snorts. “More like I'm wondering what you’re about to bribe me into.” A soft, lingering kiss takes any potential sting out of his words.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.” 

Cas shakes his head. “Fine. Just let me wash up and then you can tell me what car show you're dragging me to this time.”

“Oh, come on,” Dean calls over his shoulder as he pulls the burgers out of the oven where they've been keeping warm. “You had a blast last time, so don't even try that.”

Cas peeks out of the bathroom, still drying his hands. “I spent the entire trip reading, Dean.”

“And you told me it was one of the best books you'd ever read! See?” Dean hip checks Cas as he carries their plates to the table. “And I promise this is better.”

“Somehow I am not reassured.” Cas eyes the table appreciatively as he opens their beers. “Well whatever the reason, dinner looks great, Dean.”

“Just wait till you taste it.”

“Oh god.” Cas moans as soon as he tastes his burger, a low, filthy rumble that still makes Dean squirm even after four years together. “Whatever you want you’ve got it. These beat your 4th of July burgers and I didn’t think anything could do that.”

Dean says nothing, too distracted by the nearly explicit scene in front of him as Cas licks the juices from his hand. When Cas notices his gaze he winks like the menace he is. Once Dean’s brain cells are operating again, he tries his burger and gives an approving grunt of his own. Cas is right. They’re damn good. Putting the cheese inside the burger made a surprising difference.

They spend the next few minutes in relative silence, the food too good to risk letting it get cold. After their bellies are full and their mouths are empty, they slouch back until their knees touch beneath the table and discuss the upcoming weekend. Cas probes at what Dean’s hiding but Dean distracts him by bringing up the new Farmers’ Market opening downtown. In no time at all Cas is talking Dean’s ear off.

“I’m so glad this one will be open on Sunday. It’s nice to go in the morning when half the town is at church. I might actually have a chance at getting a jar of sunflower honey without fighting a soccer mom for it.”

Dean hides his smile behind his beer. He falls more in love with his petulant husband every day. “Tell you what baby, we’ll get there bright and early this weekend and I’ll buy you all the honey you want.”

Cas narrows his eyes and leans back from the table. “Alright, spill. What has you in such a great mood? Something to do with classic cars, classic rock, or classic films?”

“None of the above.” Dean squeezes Cas’ hand. “But you may want to thank me with one of those.” 

“Oh?” Cas has the patience of a saint sometimes but Dean can tell that it’s about to run out.

“We got the house.”

“What?” Cas lets go of Dean’s hand to fall back against his chair. “The one with the library? And the garden?”

“Yup.” He only has to wait a moment for the suspicious squint to reappear.

“How? I thought they turned down our offer? We were way below the asking price.”

“They changed their minds this morning and accepted. Agent called and I gave the deposit. I would’ve waited until you were free but it was pretty much a now or never thing.” He takes Cas’ shocked face in his hands and kisses the tip of his nose. “Somehow I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Cas pulls Dean in, roughly kissing him before working on his tie. “I would’ve killed you if you’d waited and we ended up losing it. It has shiplap!”

Dean laughs and helps Cas pull his tie free. “Yeah, I know. You’ve told me.”

“Yes, because it’s perfect.” Cas leans in and kisses him again, teasing and impatient. “And you’re perfect too. I can’t believe we got the house.”

Dean presses his grin against Cas’ neck. “Never should have doubted me.” 

It’s true, things are pretty perfect. Dean's led a charmed life since meeting Cas. It's like having Cas in his life made everything else fall into place too. And now they get to move into their dream home together. The future has never seemed brighter.

Cas pulls him in for another bruising kiss; deft fingers make short work of Dean’s shirt and move to his belt. Dean returns the kiss enthusiastically before stepping back. “I really, really want to keep going, but you also told me that you’d divorce me if we had another ant invasion because I left the dishes out again.”

Cas reels him back in. “Fuck the ants. We’re moving anyway. Let the next tenants deal with them.”

They stumble to the bedroom, shedding clothes as they go and giggling like they’re still newlyweds. Cas is all hands and teeth and when he shoves Dean against the wall things suddenly go up a notch. Dean bares his neck and lets Cas leave small teasing bites that are just light enough to disappear before morning. Once Cas has stripped Dean down to his boxers, he swings him up into his arms, knocking over their IKEA lamp in the process. Dean buries a laugh in Cas’ neck as he sidesteps it and gets a pinch to the skin of his thigh in retaliation. 

Cas carries him over the bedroom’s threshold but then tosses Dean onto the bed, startling a yelp out of him. Cas grins, a wolf among sheep, and shucks off his pants and boxers. His cock hangs heavy and hard as he crawls over and traps Dean between his arms. Dean relaxes and tilts his head back, parting his lips, lashes fluttering and mouth already watering in expectation. Cas drops a kiss on his lips and then moves south, nuzzling against the soft skin of Dean’s belly, stubble catching and teasing at the thin fabric of Dean’s boxers.

Dean jerks his hips up, scrambling to get his underwear down and Cas’ mouth closer to where he wants it, but Cas pushes his hands away and holds his hips down so he can continue his slow teasing. Dean’s cock is hard and aching where it’s trapped beneath the tightening fabric but Cas takes his time, rubbing his cheek against the bulge of Dean’s cock like he’s a damn cat before running his tongue over him as well. 

Dean grinds his heels into the bed and whines, already desperate with desire. “Dude, c’mon! I thought this was a celebratory fuck!”

Cas pulls his boxers down another inch, hooking them behind the head of Dean’s cock and sucking once before letting go with a pop when Dean tries to buck up into his mouth. “I can’t believe you waited to tell me about the house.”

Dean groans, not capable of forming words right now. “I wanted to tell you in pers— Oh jesus fuck!” Cas continues to suck him through the thin material, which he fucking knows drives Dean wild. As much as he wants Cas’ mouth on his skin, the anticipation of it is almost better. Enough is enough though and when Cas switches to long, forceful licks that have the fabric soaked immediately Dean resorts to begging. He’s not sure exactly what he says, mostly broken pleases and Cas’ name over and over, but his gibberish must be understandable enough because Cas finally takes mercy on Dean and pulls them down, leaving Dean damp and aching in the cool air of their room. 

“Fuck. Finally,” Dean breathes, his legs falling open to accommodate Cas better. He’s afraid Cas is going to tease him more, but Cas jumps straight in, sliding his hands under Dean’s thighs and manhandling him into place. Dean wriggles his hips in anticipation and Cas accepts the invitation, swallowing him down in one slow slide. 

Dean throws his head back, panting and trembling already. Cas knows exactly what he likes and how to do it, his clever tongue already working the underside of Dean’s cock as he uses one hand to hold Dean’s hips down and the other to tease the sensitive area behind his balls. 

Dean props himself up on his elbows, desperate to watch his favorite show, to see Cas’ mouth stretched wide around him, his eyes glassy with lust, his hair already looking like they’ve gone two rounds. He only manages about thirty seconds though before collapsing back to the bed, too consumed by his own pleasure to think about anything else. 

Cas picks up the pace, working him hard and fast, humming to add just a little more sensation and Dean is nearly lost. He widens his legs even further and Cas responds, swiping his fingers through the saliva dripping down his length and returning to his hole all without losing his rhythm. He rests the pad of his index finger there, lightly rubbing as he works his throat around Dean and it’s the sweetest kind of torture to be fucked so well and still want more. Cas swallows him even further, lips touching wiry hair as he finally pushes in, just a fingertip not even to the first knuckle, but it’s enough and Dean is shooting down his throat and wailing loud enough to piss off the neighbors.

He trembles as the aftershocks fade, tense muscles turned into mush. He’s nothing if not a giver though so he hauls himself back onto his elbows and waggles his eyebrows at Cas. “Whatcha waitin’ for hot stuff. Want me to blow you?”

Cas isn’t waiting for anything though, crawling up Dean until he can straddle his chest. He works his foreskin over his cock twice and asks, “This okay?”

Dean flutters his lashes and lays back, high on the afterglow. “Paint me like one of your French girls.”

Cas laughs but it quickly turns into a gasp as his strokes speed up, the sensitive tip fully glistening with precum. Dean wishes he was close enough to taste it. He slides his hands over all the skin within his reach and murmurs words of encouragement as Cas’ eyes fall shut, his breathing erratic and loud. Cas groans Dean’s name as he decorates his chest and throat with chains of white. 

He rolls off of Dean and collapses next to him, still breathing heavily. After he catches his breath, he snags the baby wipes off the nightstand and cleans Dean up, finishing with a kiss to his still sensitive cock. 

Dean twitches away from the touch, but rolls into him, spooning him happily. It’s a bit early for bed but there’s nothing wrong with a catnap. But before he does more than close his eyes, Cas pokes him and says, “C’mon let’s get up.”

“What? Why?” Dean tightens his hold, not ready to give up on the hope of a nap.

“Because you were right. We’re barely winning the battle with ants as it is and if we leave all the dishes out we are going to come back down to an invasion in the morning and we aren’t moving that soon.”

Dean groans and throws a pillow at Cas. “I hate you.” He climbs out of bed and grabs a pair of boxers from the drawer, making a face at the way they stick to his still damp skin. “Partly because you’re right. Fine, let’s clean up.”

Dean scoops the beer bottles off the table, leaving Cas to get their plates. Halfway to the sink there’s a crash and an explosion of ceramic at his heels. “Shit. Cas?” He drops the bottles and gingerly steps toward Cas who is holding his head in his hands. “What’s going on?”

Cas squints and screws his palms against the sides of his head. “I don’t know. It feels like my head is going to explode.” The words are barely more than a growl.

“Shit. C’mon you need to lie down. Should I call an ambulance? I’m gonna call an ambulance.”

“No I’m —” A groan cuts off the rest of the sentence as Dean lowers Cas to the couch.

“No, save your breath. I’m calling. This isn’t right.” He curses as he realizes he has no idea where his pants are. He searches the floor frantically, but he must have thrown them harder than he realized; they are nowhere in sight. A high pitched beeping trickles into his ears as he searches in the hall, growing steadily louder. “Do you hear that? Is that the CO monitor?”

When he receives no answer, he looks back to the couch but Cas isn't there. He curses under his breath and heads to the bedroom, the loud beeping dogging his heels. “Cas? You okay? Cas?” He grows more worried each second that passes without a response, trying to remember how long it takes for carbon monoxide poisoning to occur.

When he enters the bedroom, he finds it devoid of Cas. And after a moment he realizes their bed is missing too. He turns to look for Cas elsewhere and figure out what he's playing at but the door is no longer there, just an expanse of wall. His breathing grows shallow and fast as the surrounding furniture vanishes one piece after the other. A moment later even the walls disappear and blackness swallows everything around him.

And then he's gone too.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Dean notices as he returns to consciousness is the beeping noise, still loud and insistent. He jerks up but he’s no longer in his apartment. As he looks around, he realizes the beeping is actually coming from a vitals monitor, but other than that it’s unlike any hospital room he’s seen. It’s all sleek lines and expensive looking equipment and definitely doesn’t look like anything he and Cas could afford. 

His chest tightens as Cas’ headache and his own subsequent hallucinations come back to him. Their heater must have blown a seal or something. He sits up, taking a deep breath to combat a wave of vertigo. Dean’s alone in the room, with no sign of Cas. He clamps down on the fear in his chest and looks for a button to summon a nurse, but there is none. He’ll have to find Cas himself.

Dean takes another deep breath and staggers to the door on legs that are weaker than he expects. When he steps outside, instead of a nursing station he sees a row of glass faced workspaces. 

The only person visible is a redhead in a doorway across the room balancing an overfilled box in her hands. He cups his hands around his mouth and calls, “Hey! Do you work here?”

She jumps and the box tumbles to the ground spilling paperbacks and figurines. She groans but jogs over. “That’s actually a complicated answer. I did until about five minutes ago? What do you—” she trails off as she gets close enough to see the sensors hanging from Dean. “Holy Scooby snacks. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you can tell me? I woke up here and I’m not sure where I am or where my husband is.”

Her mouth hangs open before she brightens and bounces in place. “Oh my god! You’re one of the study participants! You must be Dean! How are you feeling? How are your memories? I guess that’s a weird question, but I—”

Dean holds up a hand. “Slow down, Red. I don’t know anything about a study. I’m just trying to find my husband. Can you help me or at least point me to someone who can?”

She bites her lip and squirms. “You don’t remember anything about the study? Darn. I was afraid of that. You see in previous tests the — ”

“That is quite enough, Ms. Bradbury. If you require assistance packing your office I would be happy to have security come up.” The voice is oily and thin and the man matches it.

She makes a face at Dean before turning to face him. “No need, Alastair. I’ll be out of here in a flash. I was just trying to make sure he was okay.” 

“That’s what our medical department is for, Ms. Bradbury, and they are on their way. Good day.”

Ms. Bradbury shoots Dean an apologetic smile and walks back to her spilled belongings.

Dean turns his attention to the newcomer. “So are you gonna be the one to fill me in? Is Cas okay?”

He gestures for Dean to return to his room. “I’ll answer all your questions momentarily, Mr. Winchester. Right after our medical team gives you a clean bill of health.” 

A dark-haired nurse follows them in, shooting Dean a dirty look as she takes in the roughly discarded equipment. “Should have strapped you down,” she says as she pokes and prods with little concern for his comfort. Dean shoots her a quick glare before ignoring her in favor of keeping an eye on Alastair lurking near the door. 

Once the nurse leaves he sidles up to Dean and holds out a thin hand. “Allow me to properly introduce myself, Mr. Winchester. Alastair Huxley. I'm with Proxima Tech’s legal team. I’m here to conduct your exit interview and remind you of some of the details of the contract you signed in light of the unfortunate setbacks experienced during the trial.”

Dean ignores his hand, “You’ve got the wrong guy, buddy. I’m here because of some gas leak in my place. I didn't sign any sort of contract with your company.”

“There’s been no mistake, Mr. Winchester. Again, all will be explained shortly, if you could please get dressed and follow me,” he says, before stepping outside.

Dean searches the room and finds a bag containing his laundered clothes and shoes, but not his cell phone or keys. He dresses quickly, determined to find out what is going on.

He steps outside and Alastair turns on his heel, striding down the hall. Dean jogs to catch up, tired of being put off. He grabs Alastair’s arm, “I’m gonna need some answers before we do anything else. Like where’s my cell phone? And my husband?”

Alastair removes Dean’s hand from his arm with the same expression Dean would use for removing a flea. He smooths the material Dean touched and gestures to the door beside him. “Your belongings will be returned to you shortly, and all questions will be answered if you could first step in here please.”

The conference room is dark with rich woods and burgundies yet somehow it seems more sterile than the hospital room he was in. He sits on a stiff leather chair and crosses his arms. “Where am I and why am I here?”

“You are currently at a research campus of Proxima Tech. You are participating in an experimental trial for our virtual reality program, Valis.” 

“What? No, I told you, there’s some mistake. I was just at my apartment earlier.”

“Ah, yes. In light of the severity of your memory lapse, perhaps this will help.” Alastair sits at his desk and turns the computer monitor so that it faces Dean. He pulls up a video file labeled Participant C-3 and presses play.

A chill runs up Dean’s spine as his own face looks back at him from the screen. He looks different in the recording though, maybe a few years younger. It’s apparent in the cocky set of his shoulders, the way he used to be so closed off to the world before he met Cas. His younger self clears his throat and sits back, reading something off screen. “Alright let’s begin. I, Dean Winchester, do solemnly swear that I am up to no good.” He winks at the camera then straightens up and says, “Sorry. Let’s do this.” Someone off-camera begins asking the Dean in the recording a series of basic questions regarding his name, age, the date, confirming Dean’s guess that this would have been from about four years ago. His younger self confirms his understanding of the trial and signs the thick contract with a flourish, passing it to the unseen interviewer. The recording ends with Dean staring directly at the camera and saying, “You guys better not fry my brain.”

Dean slumps back after the video ends. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“Temporary memory loss is a common side effect. It’s why you were required to create a video confirming your consent.” He smiles at Dean’s shock. “If it makes you feel better, your memories should return by the end of the week.” He pulls out a thick contract and sets it in front of Dean with a thump. “If you turn to page ninety-six of the contract, you will see that this possibility and other possible side effects are clearly listed.”

Dean doesn’t bother checking. “That recording was four years ago though. What am I doing here now?”

The corners of Alastair's mouth quirk up unpleasantly. “Not quite, Mr. Winchester. You signed the contract and created that recording five days ago.”

“What?” Dean shakes his head as he tries to make sense of the information being thrown at him.“Look, I don’t know what you’re on about, but five days ago I was fishing at my uncle’s cabin.” 

“I’m sure it seems that way, Mr. Winchester. Our goal is for Valis to be able to create an environment and experience that is completely indiscernible from reality.” He turns to another page in the contract and turns it toward Dean again. “In order to test this, your memories and social media footprint were used to recreate a variety of familiar environments — places you felt comfortable and safe.” 

Dread begins to settle in Dean’s gut and he taps the date printed on the contract. “I still don’t get it. What does that have to do with this being dated four years ago?”

“It isn’t.” Alastair clears his throat and busies himself with his briefcase. “The second purpose of the trial was exploring the acceleration of time in Valis. The testing duration was meant to occur in two hour increments, but there was a malfunction that prevented us from safely disengaging you at the appropriate time. You were connected for fifty-nine hours before we successfully removed you.”

Dean looks at him in shock. “So you’re saying I spent years in there?”

“Yes. You spent approximately four years two months in the simulation.”

Alastair continues to explain some of the details of the trial but Dean’s reaching information overload. It seems impossible — there’s no way the last four years of his memories are fake — but the longer Alastair speaks the more familiar his explanation sounds. The memories still feel muddy and out of reach but they’re gaining definition by the minute. 

Alastair pulls a check out from his briefcase and passes it to Dean. “As you can see, we have included a sizeable bonus for the inconvenience.”

Dean goggles at the surprisingly large amount. It seems suspiciously like a payoff. “I’m not sure —” Dean shakes his head but stops when a sharp pain and a wave of vertigo hit him. “Damn it. What’s with this headache?”

“The neural implant was only removed four hours ago. The area may be sensitive for up to one week.”

“ _Implant_?” 

“Again, Mr. Winchester, if you’d like to view the contract you will see that everything was explained in detail.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the contract.” Dean’s head is pounding and it reminds him of how this whole mess started. “Look, I’ve tried to be patient but It’s time you told me where Cas is.” 

“I’m not sure who you are referring to.”

“Castiel Winchester! I’m looking for my fucking husband!”

The door slams open behind him and Dean turns to find his brother Sam standing in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Seeing Sam is a dose of reality and Dean struggles to calm down as the gravity of the situation hits him. He isn’t married. He didn’t meet Cas four years ago. This was all some freaky head trip.

Alastair stands and places a hand on the desk phone. “Excuse me, this is a private meeting. Please leave or I’ll call security.” 

“I’m his brother. And his legal representation,” Sam says, recovering quickly. He pulls a business card out of his wallet and passes it over. 

Alastair sneers as he puts the card down. “It says you do environmental law.”

Sam shrugs. “We’re family. I represent him however he needs me to.” He leans in toward Alastair and the other man flinches. “And I have a feeling he definitely needs a lawyer to look into this,” he says, gesturing at the inch thick contract.

“Very well.” Alastair pulls another folder out of his briefcase. “You’ll obviously need to sign a non-disclosure agreement as well.”

Sam and Alastair bicker over the details of the agreement but Dean tunes out their conversation. He had dinner with Cas just hours ago. He signed a purchase offer for their dream house that morning. That feels real. None of this does.

“Mr. Winchester?” 

Dean rolls his shoulders and clears his throat. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I asked if you were ready to begin the exit interview. It’s the final stage of the process. After that you are free to go.” 

“Before we do anything else, I want to know where my husband is and if he’s alright.” Dean steadfastly ignores the way Sam’s gaze is drilling into him. 

Alastair raises an eyebrow and turns his monitor to face him again. “Yes, you mentioned him before but your intake paperwork lists you as single, Mr. Winchester.”

“I am. I mean — “ Dean breaks off and takes a deep breath. “I married him two years ago. In your simulation thing. His name is Castiel Novak. He must be one of the other test subjects.”

There’s an amused gleam in Alastair’s eyes that doesn’t go with his solemn tone. “I am terribly sorry Mr. Winchester, but each participant’s experience in Valis is solitary. Everyone you interacted with, including your ‘spouse’, was simply a construction of the program. A perfect partner created by the program to provide you with companionship I assume.”

Dean clenches his jaw. “There’s no way he was a computer creation. Can’t you just check the fucking list? His name is Castiel Novak. C-A-S-T—” 

“Mr. Winchester, as I have already explained, it’s simply not possible. And even if it was, I would not be able to give you any information about the other participants.

“Sure.” He nods and ignores Sam’s concerned look. He can do this and get out of here. And then he can find Cas. 

Alastair's questions range from things like how many models of cars did he remember seeing and if the seasons changed to whether he had sexual relations while in the program. Even the more personal questions barely penetrate him. He answers dully, numb down to his bones.

Eventually they reach the end of the questionnaire. Alastair reminds him once again of the non-disclosure agreement and the steep penalties if breached. He then leaves them with instructions to wait for security to bring the remainder of Dean's belongings and escort them to the exit. 

As soon as Alastair leaves, Sam pounces.

“Really? Did you even look at what you were signing? You basically told them that if they wanted to remove your brain for their experiment they could. This implant could have seriously messed you up.”

Dean forces a smile, not in the mood to argue. “Not like you to be such a luddite, Sam. Figured you’d be all over this stuff.”

“I’m serious, Dean. I don’t understand why you would do something this risky. I thought the shop was doing well?”

“It is.” Dean clenches his jaw and looks away. Even if his memories of signing up for the trial are hazy, the reason is not. Sam has a dim enough view of their dad as it is though. Dean doesn’t want to tarnish the memory any further by explaining how all the shady loans their dad had taken out over the years had come due once he’d died. “I just had some unexpected costs, okay? Look, you can finish chewing me out later. What are you even doing here?”

Sam frowns. “Someone called me from your phone half an hour ago. Said to pick you up here.”

“Huh.” Dean shelves the mystery for later. “Hold up. I wanna take a look around before security gets up here.”

“What for?”

“I don't trust that Alastair guy. I wanna look for Cas up here myself.”

Sam frowns. “I thought he said that Cas wasn’t —”

“I know what he said but he’s wrong.” When Sam opens his mouth to speak, Dean holds up a hand. “Stop. You weren’t there and I was. Cas is real. Period.”

Sam sighs but nods. “Okay. I’ll follow your lead.”

They only get to check two rooms before security finds them and escorts them out of the building, threatening to have them arrested. Dean’s tempted to try and shake them again but he resists since he won’t do Cas any good sitting in a jail cell.

He stops to call Cas but the number just won’t come. He’s hoping these little holes in his memory aren’t permanent. The one bright spot is seeing Baby waiting for him in the parking lot, even if they’ve allowed leaves to pile up around her tires. After he gets behind the wheel he leans back, closing his eyes and taking measured breaths, in and out, in and out until the tension beneath his skin is bearable.

When he opens his eyes again Sam is looking at him funny.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Sam

“Out with it Sam.”

“It’s nothing really. I’ve just never seen you,” he pauses, “meditate before.”

“I wasn’t meditating.” Dean clears his throat and avoids Sam's eyes. “It’s just some breathing exercises Cas taught me.”

Sam shakes his head, grinning. “I've definitely gotta meet Cas.”

The smile drops off Dean's face as he pops the car into gear. “Yeah, me too.”


	3. Chapter 3

The shower is relaxing even if it’s nowhere near the pressure he's accustomed to. Or thinks he's accustomed to. The ache in his chest comes back as he's reminded that the last four years were a lie. That all the memories with Cas are not real. Their trip to Nashville, the pie Cas tried and failed to bake, their wedding. He braces his forehead against the shower wall and lets the water wipe away any escaping tears. He’ll focus on finding Cas later; for now he gives himself a chance to mourn what never actually was.

He takes his time getting ready, smiling when he automatically goes for the same comfort clothes he wore in the program. Apparently he can’t imagine anything better than flannel and worn jeans for relaxing. 

Sam is sprawled over the couch when Dean walks into the living room. “What’re you still doing here?”

“You were basically in a coma for the past three days, Dean. I’m staying here tonight.”

Dean makes a face but doesn’t say anything. He’s still feeling shaky and he doesn’t hate the thought of some company. “Whatever. You can use those Google-fu skills of yours to help me find Cas. My laptop’s on the table.”

Sam sighs but boots it up obediently while Dean grabs them a pair of beers from the refrigerator. “Are you sure you wanna do this tonight, Dean? You should probably get some rest.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I wanna track him down and make sure he’s okay. Right before everything ended he had this bad headache. I called the hospital already, but they didn’t have anyone by his name.”

“Huh. He had a headache? I wonder if that was your brain’s way of warning you that something was wrong.”

Dean freezes. “My brain? Damn it, Sammy, I thought you said you believed me.”

Sam's eyes dart away. “I want to, Dean, I really want to. But I read through the details of the study while you were in the shower and Alastair was right. The trials were all conducted individually. You wouldn't have even met the other participants.”

Dean's stomach turns a thread of doubt threatens to weave its way in. Most of the details of the trial have come back to him over the past few hours, but he still couldn’t remember meeting Cas or any of the other participants outside of the program. He’d hoped it was just another memory gap yet to be filled. 

He takes a long drink of his beer and forces the doubt back down. “I told you, there's no way. I talked to him, lived with him every day. I've seen all the TED Talks about AI, nobody is anywhere near creating anything close to what I experienced. He was a real person.”

“So you’re telling me you could tell who was real and who was fake? What about me? What was I like in the simulation?”

Dean stops as he realizes he can’t remember the last time he saw Sam. He knows Sam was at his wedding but all he remembers from that is a congratulations and a hug. His stomach turns as no other memories occur to him. How could he forget his own brother? Next to Cas, there’s no one in the world that means more to him. He swallows and clears his throat, not sure what to say. “It was, uh, different in there. I only saw most people in passing. I didn’t have any real conversations with anyone other than Cas really. Just small talk.” 

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. Trying to build a person out of someone else’s memories is bound to get tricky. But Cas was different?”

Dean perks up, smiling. “Yeah, completely. We talked about everything.”

“Well, that’s promising I guess.” Sam cracks his knuckles and returns to the laptop. “So! Tell me what we have to go on.”

“Castiel Novak.” He spells it at Sam's confused look.

“Is that a family name or something? And what about address or phone number?”

The doubt creeps back in as he realizes he doesn't know the answer to any of those questions. “I'm not sure. Things are a little spotty.” The look Sam shoots him is dripping with sympathy and Dean hates it. “Well? Find anything?”

Sam frowns at the screen. “Not really. Let me try without the quotes.”

Dean can't sit still any longer and gets up to lean over Sam's shoulder. “Well?”

Sam sighs. “Well, there’s a Castiel Estate that produces wine, a municipality in Switzerland named Castiel, and a gay bar in London called Castiel’s, but so far I’m not finding any people.”

Dean grips the back of Sam's chair until it creaks, his knuckles white with tension. “Try Cas. He rarely goes by his full name.”

Sam nods and smiles at Dean, but the worry around his eyes is still clear. “Okay, let’s start easy and check Facebook first. Is he on Facebook?”

Dean clenches his jaw. “I don’t know. We didn’t — I don’t know. I don’t remember using Facebook or anything like that in there.”

“Interesting.”

“Jesus, Sammy. Can you try to not act like this crisis I’m having is a neat new science project?”

“Sorry! I didn’t mean it that way. Let’s see what we’ve got.” 

Dean leans in as three profiles appear. The first one is for a Cassandra “Cas” Novak with a picture that is decidedly not Cas, but the other two are photoless. “What’s it say about those two?”

Sam clicks through their profiles but they are empty. “Sorry Dean, the privacy settings are locked down tight on both of these.”

Dean takes a deep breath, determined not to get discouraged this early in the game. “Alright send them both friend requests from me.” Sam does so and Dean tries not to be disappointed when neither of them instantly respond. 

They check LinkedIn, but the only profile that comes up is for the same Cassandra as before. When they exit back to the search Dean points to the remaining links. “What about those?”

Sam clicks but does not seem hopeful. “We’ll obviously check it out, but these are all data aggregator sites. You can pay to see what info they have, but it’s kind of a crapshoot whether it’s accurate or current.”

Dean pulls out his wallet and sets it on the table. “Do it.”

“First let’s see what info they’ll give us for free.” Sam clicks and a handful of possible Cas Novaks pop up. “See all of these top ones are probably that same Cassandra, this one says an estimated age of fifty-six, I assume we can eliminate that one?” 

Dean nods. “Yeah, he’s a year older than I am, he just turned thirty-eight.”

“You’re thirty-three, Dean.” Sam says, brow creasing in worry.

Dean swallows but waves it off. “Yeah sorry, just uh, hard to remember still. So he’s thirty-four then.”

Sam scrolls down a bit more and, “Bingo.”

Dean’s heart thumps as he looks at the screen. _Cas Novak, 34, Wichita, Kansas, pay $9.99 to learn more_. It’s not much to go on, but it’s a start. “Alright Sammy, let’s see what they’ve got.” 

Sam punches in his credit card number and Dean holds his breath as the loading symbol spins. Then lets it all out in a relieved laugh as a phone number and address pop up. Neither look familiar, but he isn’t sure if that means much. 

He digs his phone out, and enters the number before he’s even thought of what to say, too nervous and excited to wait a second longer. At the click of the connection his heart skips but he’s met with the mechanical intonation of, “This phone number is no longer in service.”

He swallows thickly. Of course it can’t be this easy. “Not in service. Try the next one, Sam.”

Sam looks like he wants to say something but turns back to the laptop instead. “Alright.”

The information is the same with the addition of an address in Illinois. He jots it down just in case.

And has Sam move on to the next one.

They've been searching for over an hour with little progress before Sam approaches the subject that Dean's been waiting for all night.

“So, Cas. He must be a pretty cool guy.” 

Dean's not sure if the emphasis on guy is intentional or not but he notices it. “Yeah, he is. You got something to say to me Sam?” 

“Jesus, Dean, I'm not gonna be a dick about it. I'm just surprised. You never said anything.”

“Yeah well, we didn't exactly grow up in the most accepting of environments.”

Sam nods. “I get that. I guess I just wish you‘d felt comfortable enough to tell me.”

Dean runs his hand through his hair and sighs. He's too emotionally exhausted for this conversation right now but he figures he may as well get it over with. “Look it's nothing to do with you Sammy. You gotta realize that a lot of the shit dad said kind of stuck with me. It was easier to just date women and tell myself it was for the best.” He gives a self-deprecating chuckle. “I mean we aren't living in San Francisco here.”

Sam nods again, eyebrows creased in empathy. “Yeah, I get it. So I take it nobody knows?”

“Nah,” Dean shakes his head then catches himself. “Well, Bobby knows.”

“Oh.”

Hearing the hurt in Sam's voice, Dean quickly continues. “Don't get your panties in a bunch. Only reason Bobby knows is because he found my stash of Playgirls when I was fifteen.”

They share a laugh over that as Dean shudders theatrically.

“Wow. That must have been one hell of an awkward conversation.”

Dean groans, remembering it. “You don't even know the half of it Sam. He tried to give me the birds and the bees talk about gay sex, but it was clear he had no idea what he was talking about.” He shivers. “It was awful. Couldn't look him in the eye for months after.”

“Better than dad though,” Sam points out.

Just the thought sobers Dean up and sours his mood. “Yeah. No kidding. Look man, I'm beat. Why don't you head home and we can continue tomorrow?”

“You sure? I was planning on spending the night just in case.”

“Totally sure, man. All I want right now is the comfort of my own bed. Any so far barely even a headache.” When Sam still looks hesitant, he holds up a hand. “If I feel even the slightest bit off I'll call you, okay?”

Sam sighs but stands up. “Alright, but promise me you'll call me if your head hurts or anything.”

“Scouts honor.”

After Sam leaves Dean goes through another few search results before giving up, too tired and discouraged to push on. 

When he collapses into bed though, sleep doesn't come easily. His mattress feels too hard and lumpy, but most of all it feels too empty. He misses the warmth of an arm across his stomach, the puff of warm breath against his hair, just the overall comfort of knowing that Cas is there.

He gives up and sleeps on the couch.

 

Dean sleeps deeper than he expects, only waking when a loud banging noise brings him back from dreamland. He reaches over to shove Cas awake, but instead nearly tumbles off the lumpy couch. Just like that, he’s brought back to his new reality. He sits up, knuckling the sleep out of his eyes. One look at the amount of sunlight in the room tells him he slept in. He trudges to the door as the banging grows stronger. 

Sam is waiting on his doorstep with a cup of gas station coffee, looking pissed. “I've been calling for three hours, Dean. ”

Dean winces, realizing he never plugged in his phone, which means he might have missed a call from Cas. “Shit. Can I use your charger?”

Sam looks at him incredulously. “Did you hear a word I said? I was starting to think you were laying in here seizing or worse.”

“No, I’m fine. I just slept in.” He takes the cup of coffee from Sam and heads back to the couch, shoving the pillow and blankets out of the way. 

Sam’s expression falters as he takes in the mess, turning from annoyance to sympathy. Dean takes the charger from Sam and focuses on plugging in his phone, avoiding Sam’s gaze. He wants answers not pity. 

He checks Facebook, but neither of his friend requests have been accepted. Dean swallows down the inevitable disappointment and reminds himself that it’s been less than a day since he sent them. Maybe Cas slept in too. The thought brings a needed smile to his face.

“Got anything?” Sam asks.

“Not yet.” Dean stares at the screen uncertainly. He’s gone through every listing he could find and come up with close to nothing. He brings up Facebook once again but, other than endlessly refreshing, he’s not sure what else to do. 

Dean finally pulls up the list of addresses he’s gathered. He has three in Kansas, one in Illinois, and one in Colorado. “I figure we leave Illinois for last. It’s farthest and I’m pretty sure Cas has a cousin out there that he stayed with, so that’s probably an old address. Now the one in Colorado is actually closer than one of the ones in Kansas, but I figure he’s more likely to have seen the ad for the trial if he was here in Kansas. What do you think?” 

Sam sits next to him and sighs in a way that warns of unpleasant things to come. “You know Dean, I hate to mention it, but Benny’s been asking me what to do about the shop. He’s been running interference for you but people are starting to talk.”

Dean groans and tugs at his hair. His shop. He’d completely forgotten that he has a business to run. “Shit.” He’d spent his life savings and years of work to open his own restoration shop and while the business isn’t struggling, it also doesn’t have enough customers to risk losing some. But he can’t risk losing Cas either.

Thinking of his shop gives him an idea though. “I’m an idiot, let me see if I can find his shop.” He looks up at Sam. “He owns a bookstore.” 

Sam snorts as he reads over Dean’s shoulder. “Readful Things?”

Dean smiles. “Yeah. He's a dork.” At first he thinks he's found something, but it turns out to be an unrelated Etsy shop. There’s nothing else in the search results. He lowers his head to his hands as despair threatens to overwhelm him. It’s a small blow but it hits him hard. He's hitting dead end after dead end and he's not sure what to do next.

He squares his shoulders and looks at Sam. “I think I’m gonna try to sneak back into Proxima.”

“What?”

“This isn’t working, I need more information and that’s the only place I’m gonna get it.”

Sam leans into his space, grabbing the laptop. “Okay before we jump to trespassing let me show you something.”

When Sam passes the laptop back, he's replaced Cas’ name in the search bar with Dean’s. The difference is striking. Dean's Facebook is the first result and the second is his LinkedIn account. A look further down the page shows that his both his home and work addresses and phone numbers are easily accessible as well. Dean isn’t sure if he’s relieved or creeped out.

“Cas may know how to lock down his privacy settings, but clearly you don’t. Give it some time, Dean. He’s probably looking for you too and he’s going to have a much easier time of it.” He raises his eyebrows, “Or at least it’ll be easy as long as you aren’t in jail for breaking and entering.”

Dean nods. It makes sense. The idea that Cas is out there looking for him too has some of the tension leaving his shoulders. “You’re right. I’ll make sure I’m easy to reach and try to focus on getting things calmed down at the shop.” He clears his throat and makes himself meet Sam’s eyes. “Thanks. For uh, you know, not making this weird. Well, weirder than it already is.”

Sam smiles. “Anytime, man. I need to get back to the firm now, but once this is over you have to let me fix your privacy settings. Nobody under seventy should have a profile like this.” 

 

After Sam leaves Dean faces the music and heads to the shop. The relief in Benny’s bloodshot eyes would be almost comical if it didn’t make Dean feel so guilty. 

“Dean? Dean Winchester? Is that you, or are my eyes deceiving me?” 

Hearing this, the other two mechanics, Ash and Jo, both look over and chime in with their own hallelujahs.

“I know, I know. It’s a long story.” Dean smiles, taking the time to reassure everyone that he won’t be disappearing again before heading to his office, Benny at his heels. 

Once they’re inside, he closes the door. “Alright, let me have it. Just how screwed am I?”

“Oh ye of little faith.” Benny says, shaking his head at Dean. “You’re good chief. You missed paying the invoice for Flexsteel, but they were understanding. Otherwise it’s been pretty much business as usual. Ms. Talbot was miffed that she couldn’t discuss her latest acquisition with you personally, but I told her you had a family emergency and she seemed to accept it.” 

Dean winces. Bela Talbot is a high maintenance client, but also an extremely good one. “What’s she got for us this time?”

Benny tilts his head back. “Torino Talladega.”

Dean whistles. “She sure can pick ‘em. What else do we have on the docket?”

“Mildred’s Studebaker is here for some detail work, but that’s it. I was gonna start hunting down parts for the Talladega next unless you need me for something else.” 

“Yeah, just one thing.”

“No problem, lay it on me, brother.” Benny looks dead on his feet but Dean has no doubts that he means it. If it comes down to tracking down Cas in person, it will just have to wait for the weekend. He has responsibilities here and Benny’s already done enough.

“Get your ass home. I appreciate you holding down the fort, but I think if you work another hour of overtime Andrea’s gonna kill me.”

Benny grins and spreads his hands as he backs out of the office. “Hey you won't hear any argument from me. She's making Smyrna meatballs tonight.”

Dean walks Benny out and checks in with Ash and Jo. He can tell they’re curious about his absence but also wise enough not to ask. He’s grateful for the reprieve. He’s not sure what he’s going to tell people. 

He checks Facebook one more time, then gets to work finding out just what he missed. The rest of the afternoon is spent double checking the work orders from the last three days, but there's no need. Benny covered all the bases. Dean makes a note to see if he can swing a raise for Benny, then remembers the hefty check he has yet to deposit and drafts up the paperwork right there.

By the time he’s finished it’s nearly closing time and he’s only given in to the temptation to check his phone five or six times. Maybe ten or twelve. Not that it matters. Cas hasn’t tried to contact him. It’s only been a day, he knows that, but it’s hard not to feel a little stung that Cas doesn’t seem to be searching for him with the same desperation. 

When he gets home he’s restless. He tries to fall into his usual routines, but his life doesn’t fit like it used to. Everything feels wrong. Even simple things like making dinner and cleaning up rub him the wrong way. He’s always felt like everything in his life became better after he met Cas and now he has proof. Without Cas, his world feels stale and meaningless.

He drinks more than he should, more than he has in years — since Cas — and spends the evening staring at infomercials until he passes out on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles.


	4. Chapter 4

When his alarm goes off the next morning, Dean’s tempted to stay where he is. He doesn’t want to face another disappointing day and if he falls asleep again at least he has a chance of seeing Cas in his dreams. He can’t do that to Benny or his crew though, so he forces himself up and gets ready, just going through the motions.

Dean hides in his office all day even though the numbers and letters keep swimming in front of his eyes. All he can think about is Cas. He knows Benny and the rest of the crew want to ask what’s going on, but he couldn’t say anything to them even if he wanted to because of the NDA he signed. So instead he sits at his desk pretending to read customer emails and signs anything that Benny puts in front of him. As soon as the clock hits five, he tells everyone to wrap up and closes shop, eager to get away from their curious faces. 

Home still doesn’t feel like home though, more like a cheap substitute for what he’s used to, devoid of everything that gives it meaning. It hurts living in a bachelor pad he thought he’d traded in years ago. So he microwaves some dangerously old leftovers and spends another night drinking too much and feeling too little.

He tries something new the next day at work, sliding under one of the waiting cars instead of going to his office, hoping the physical work will keep his mind off of the emptiness he can’t shake.

It works well enough. It’s strange how comforting something as simple as a wrench in his hand and grease beneath his nails can feel. It’s been too long since he’s worked out in the garage like this. He’s been spending too much time in the office dealing with numbers and paperwork. This is what he loves. To be able to take something in his hands and fix it, even if it’s just the suspension on an ancient Plymouth. He loses himself in the familiar motions and jumps when Benny bangs on the car, telling him it’s lunchtime.

He rolls out and catches the rag that Benny tosses him. 

“I’m gonna grab a sandwich from Mario’s, you want anything?” Benny asks.

Dean nods as he wipes his hands and sits up. “Yeah, I do. In fact,” he stands up and cups his hands around his mouth. “Lunch is on me guys. Happy Friday!”

Jo and Ash cheer and Dean smiles, glad to be able to do something small for his team to thank them for sticking with him. He knows there aren't a whole lot of job prospects in Lawrence but he appreciates their loyalty all the same.

Dean escapes to his office after placing the order and pulls out his notebook, looking at the possible addresses he found for Cas online. He's tempted to check the one in Wichita tonight, but it's over a two hour drive so he'll just have to wait until the morning. He pulls the address up on Google Maps, hoping it's somehow familiar even though he doesn't remember ever traveling to see Cas during his time in Valis.

It's still weird to think that their time together took place inside their minds, that the last four years of his life were just files in some online cloud. It hurts to think that he's never actually held Cas in his arms or heard his laugh or even seen his real smile.

He no longer doubts that's what happened though. He's noticed some discrepancies with his memories from Valis. While he was balancing the books, he'd realized that he couldn't remember working much at all during his time there. He remembers a few special jobs, a Boss 9, a ‘67 Roadrunner, a replica of Little Bastard, but he remembers none of the day-to-day grind. None of the number crunching and scheduling that actually takes up most of his time. Instead it's all romantic getaways and weekends spent fishing. 

It's disconcerting to say the least.

He accidentally clicks too far on street view and ends up at an intersection outside of the neighborhood. A purple and black storefront catches his eyes and his breath catches as he zooms in. 

It’s Cas’ bookstore. The name on the building is different, but the black ivy design painted on lavender brick is unmistakable. He swallows thickly as he saves an image of the building and writes down the address. Cas is in Wichita.

A knock at his door causes him to straighten up. “Come in.”

Benny enters, carrying a takeout bag. Instead of dropping it off, he shuts the door behind him and sits down.

“Thanks.” Dean clears a space on his desk and tries to prepare himself for the questions sure to come. “What's up?”

Benny takes a deep breath before breaking into a grin. “Andrea's pregnant.”

It's not what Dean expected to hear but he blurts out a heartfelt, “Congratulations,” before it gets awkward. 

“Thanks brother, we're both over the moon.” Benny's smile turns pensive as he moves the pasta around on his plate aimlessly. “Means I've gotta be sure I can take care of my family.”

“Yeah. I get that,” Dean says, unsure what Benny's working up to.

“You really scared me, brother. You tell me you won’t be in on Friday, then Monday passes with no word, then Tuesday and Wednesday. I was beginning to think maybe you'd just up and left town.” 

_Like your father._

It's unspoken but Dean hears it all the same. “I'm sorry. I was—” he pauses still unsure what to say since he can't tell him the truth.

Benny fixes Dean with an earnest stare. “If you were just shacked up with some lucky lady and having too much fun to come in that's your business. But if there's something going on with the shop, if I'm gonna be out of work in a few months, I've gotta know.”

A wave of relief washes over Dean. This he can handle. “No, it's nothing like that at all. Business is good.” He shifts through the papers on his desk until he finds the salary increase letter he drafted the night before. “It's going well enough that I thought it was about time you got a raise.”

Benny looks at the figure and whistles. “This isn't just because of the baby?”

“Nah man, I wrote this up last night after I saw what a great job you did while I was gone. It's good to know the shop’s in good hands when I'm not here.”

Benny raises an eyebrow. “Does this mean there are going to be more mysterious five day weekends in your future?”

“Maybe.” Dean laughs but he's still unsure what to tell him. There's one thing he can correct though. “It uh, wasn't a lucky lady. His name is Cas.” It's a lot easier to say than he expects. He figures being out for four years, even if only in a virtual world, takes away a lot of the jitters.

Benny gives him an approving nod. “And when am I gonna meet this guy who made you forget all about work?”

Dean looks at the bookstore address and allows a seed of hope in. “Soon.”

He calls Sam while he’s locking up and arranges to meet him at the Roadhouse. It’s gratifying to have actual proof to offer Sam, an actual physical location that he knows Cas is at.

The Roadhouse is full of its own memories though. It's where he brought Cas for dinner after the first time he spent the night. It's where they looked at real estate brochures and first saw their dream house.

The owner, Ellen, gives him a hug when he walks in. She pours them a free pitcher and tells Dean how glad she is that he’s back.

He assures her he’s fine and thanks her for the pitcher before glaring at Sam. “What did you tell people?”

Sam rolls his eyes as they slide into a booth. “You were missing for four days Dean. I just asked folks to call if they saw you.”

Dean groans. “That’s just great.” Now he’s got a whole town full of people wanting to know where he’s been. He perks up as he remembers that if things go well maybe Cas can help him figure out what to tell folks. “I’ve got good news, Sammy.”

“What’s up?”

“I found Cas’ bookstore.” He pulls the address back up on his phone and passes it over. “That’s it. I’d know it anywhere.”

Sam takes a closer look and frowns. “I thought you said it was called Readful Things.”

Dean takes his phone back, enthusiasm dimming. “Yeah, it was. This must be an old photo. The building’s the same though.”

Sam’s brow furrows. “Okay. Did you try calling the place?” 

They’re interrupted when their waitress comes to take their order. The waitress is new and she’s friendly to a fault, laughing at everything Dean says and leaning in just a little too close when she grabs his glass to refill it. When she casually mentions that her shift ends in an hour, the implication is obvious. Dean gently makes his disinterest known and watches her leave bemusedly.

After she’s gone Sam shakes his head. “I can’t believe you turned her down.”

“Of course I did, Sam. I'm a married ma — ” he swallows the rest of the word, cheeks burning. It's still hard to remember sometimes.

Sam takes a deep breath and lays his hands on the table. “Okay what I'm about to say is going to make me sound like a jerk, but I think you need to hear it.”

“Wow. I can't wait to hear this.”

“I think it's time you seriously considered that Cas isn't real.”

“Sam, don’t,” Dean says, warning him off the subject. This time, Sam doesn’t listen.

“Just hear me out and try to think about this objectively. While in a virtual reality simulation — specifically designed to make you happy — you met someone exactly your type, fell in love almost instantly, got married, and lived in wedded bliss. Have I got that about right?”

Dean folds his arms as he battles unease. “Yeah, so?”

“Dean.” Sam runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “Let's set aside the fact that Valis is a solo experience and that you can't find any proof of Cas. When's the last time you had a relationship last more than a week? Lisa? That didn't even last a year and the only reason it lasted as long as it did was because you were crazy about her kid.” Sam smiles sadly. “Doesn’t this perfect relationship sound a little bit like wish fulfillment to you?”

Dean clenches his jaw as anger and fear battle for control. He can't deny the truth behind Sam's words. He's shit at relationships; he knows that. Does it really make sense that someone as amazing as Cas would choose to be with him? And if he is real, why haven’t they found each other? The only other possibility Dean can think of is that Cas isn’t interested. Dean isn’t sure which option is worse. Cas being a figment of his imagination or Cas being real but wanting nothing to do with him.

He swallows the rest of his beer and idly scans the room, not ready to voice his defeat out loud. A redhead paying her tab catches his eyes, looking vaguely familiar. As she bounces up from her stool and waves goodbye to the owner, Ellen, it hits him.

He jumps up and makes his way over, shouldering people out of his way and ignoring Sam’s shouts. She’s already out the door by the time he makes it to the bar so he yells for Sam to pay their tab and jogs out after her. 

She’s already standing at a yellow Gremlin across the lot so he puts on a burst of speed to catch her. 

When Dean gets close, she spins around and shoves a bright purple canister in his face, yelling, “Stop! I’ve got mace and I’m not afraid to use it!”

Dean throws his hands up and takes a step back. “Hold your horses. I just wanna ask you some questions.”

She slowly lowers the canister as recognition crosses her features. “Winchester?”

Sam catches up to them, looking between the two of them anxiously. “Someone wanna tell me what's going on here?”

“She works for Proxima. And she's gonna tell me what she did to me.”

She crosses her arms. “Excuse me, first of all, I didn't do anything to you. I’m just a programmer. And second of all, I actually don't work there anymore because they found out that I was the one who called your brother and told him where to find you.”

Dean shifts his weight, thrown by the information. “Yeah? Well I still have questions.”

Sam sighs loudly and steps between them. “Thank you for calling.” He offers his hand. “My name's Sam and this is my brother Dean. I'm sorry it cost you your job.”

She takes his hand and pumps it up and down cheerfully. “Don't sweat it. Things were looking shady so I was about to quit anyway. I'm Charlie.” She turns to Dean and says, “I'll tell you what I can, but can we go back inside so I don't feel like I'm about to be kidnapped by two giant lumberjacks?”

They head back inside, ignoring Ellen's raised eyebrow at their return. Their previous booth is still free and their beers intact, so Dean swallows some liquid courage and launches into a recap of his time in the program, explaining how he met and built a life with Cas over four years. He loses track of time as he laughingly recounts his attempt to teach Cas to ice skate, only coming back to himself when Charlie sighs wistfully. He clears his throat and wraps up, recounting what Alastair claimed happened and how Cas couldn’t be real because of the way the program was structured. 

Charlie sighs again, chin in her hand. “I’m sorry but this is just adorbs. I figured something must have been going on with the two of you but—”

“So Cas is real?” Dean cuts in, latching onto her words. “I knew that bastard was lying.” He can't help but shoot a triumphant look at Sam.

Charlie winces. “Oops. Yes, Cas is real, but before I say anything more, did you both sign the NDA?”

“Yup.” Dean and Sam both nod.

“Oh good. Because let me tell you, they are not kidding about that and I do not wanna have to change my name again.”

Dean and Sam look at each other at that tidbit but she moves on without elaborating.

“Okay, so Alastair was telling the truth that the two of you meeting shouldn’t have been possible. All of the trials were run simultaneously but using different partitions of the network. No bleed through should have happened.”

Dean motions for her to go on. “So? What went wrong?”

“We don't know! At first we thought it was just a readout error, but it kept happening. You and subject — sorry, you and Cas — kept bleeding into each other's realities somehow. And then after the third trial, Cas was no longer in his at all. Just yours. I was freaking out.” She leans back and rests her hand over heart. “But now that I've heard your half of things, it all seems Uber romantic.”

Sam snorts, then tries to hide it with a cough, but Dean doesn't care. All that matters is that Cas is real and he's finally getting some answers. “And it was just us? Nobody else had this problem?”

“Nope, testing went exactly as expected for the rest of the group. You two were the only ones who turned our solo test into a partnered affair.”

“Huh. Alright. So whatever was happening also kept you from removing us from the interface?”

Charlie frowns. “That's what Alastair told you?”

Dean nods, stomach churning.

Charlie leans in, looking between Sam and Dean. “Okay so what I'm about to tell you seriously can't go any further. I mean it.”

“Yeah of course,” Sam says as Dean nods, motioning for her to continue.

“Short answer is no. They could have removed you at any time, but they were too interested in the data they were getting to do so. That's why I borrowed your phone and called your emergency contact. The program is only designed to be used for short intervals, we know nothing about long term use.”

Sam shakes his head. “I told you that contract was bad news Dean. We’re lucky Charlie called when she did.”

Charlie pops a pretzel in her mouth and shakes her head. “I can't take the credit. There was some critical failure with the trial on the last day.”

“What type of failure?” Dean asks.

“I'm not sure. They'd already removed my access to the trial by then.” She takes a drink and wipes her mouth on the sleeve of her sweater. “My guess is some type of overheating issue. The equipment wasn't designed for continuous use.”

Dean's skin crawls as he's reminded of how dangerous the trial was. “Jesus. He didn't mention anything like that.”

Charlie's smile is tired and bitter. “Yeah, I'm not surprised. Employees take a shit and Proxima considers it ‘proprietary information.’”

The air quotes Charlie adds set off a wave of longing and nostalgia so intense that it gives Dean vertigo. He takes a shaky breath followed by a long drink, giving the lump in his throat and the crushing pain in his chest a chance to diminish. 

“Can you tell me anything about Cas or how to find him?”

“Sorry. I had zero contact or involvement when the actual participants. I was basically a code monkey.”

“That's alright,” Dean says, disappointed but not surprised. “I’ve got a lead that I’m going to look into this weekend.”

Charlie bites her lip and bounces in place. “This is like, super weird, but do you think you could keep me updated on how it goes?”

“What?”

“I feel kinda gross about working for them in the first place so knowing something good came out of it would help. Plus I am always a sucker for a big gay love story so I'm dying to hear how this turns out.” 

Dean laughs and shakes his head. “I guess we can exchange numbers or something so I can keep you in the loop.” He’s normally not big on sharing but it’s nice having someone else he can talk to about Cas—someone who believes him and is rooting for him—without having to worry about the NDA. 

“Deal!” She passes her phone over and turns to Sam. “You too. I just moved here a few months ago and I’m not exactly replete with friends right now and you guys seem cool when you’re not stalking me in a parking lot.”

Sam chuckles and takes the phone after Dean. “What made you move out here?”

“The job offer from Proxima. Which I should have known was too good to be true. Well, that and a break up.” 

“Some asshole done you wrong?” Dean asks. “I know a guy.”

She smiles sadly. “No. Dorothy was great, but we were from two different worlds. Didn’t work out long term.”

“Ah, sorry to hear that. Sorry about uh, costing you your job then.” He’s not really, he’d like to see Proxima go down in flames, but it must suck losing your girlfriend and your job one right after the other.

“Don't worry about it. I was already on my way out the door. Good thing with programming is that I can always work freelance.”

Dean tunes out the conversation as Sam and Charlie talk computers. As elated as he is to have confirmation that Castiel is real and most likely in Wichita, there is still the question of why Cas hasn't contacted him. 

He slips away and downs two whiskeys at the bar ordering two more to take back to the table. He doesn't want to spend all night agonizing over all the possible reasons for Cas’ radio silence. For better or for worse, he'll have his answers soon enough.


	5. Chapter 5

A loud knocking at the door fills Dean with a sense of deja vu. He wakes up in his own bed this time, with no memory of how he got there.

He drags himself to the door, wincing as the sunlight peeking through the open curtains assails him. Each knock on the door sends a spike of pain through his head and he curses the last few steps. He'd meant to drink enough to forget his problems, not enough to leave him feeling like a truck had hit him.

Sam smiles sympathetically at him from the doorway and presses a cup of coffee into his hand. “Here. Thought you could use this.”

Dean motions Sam in, not ready to face the bustle outside. He collapses into one of the kitchen chairs, inhaling the steam from his cup.

“Too much celebrating last night, huh?”

Dean nods, immediately regretting the motion as it sends another wave of pain through his head. He'd rather Sam believe he was celebrating his upcoming reunion with Cas rather than fleeing his fears.

Sam opens his mouth but Dean holds up a hand. He doesn't want to hear a pin drop until he's had his coffee. Even gas station coffee taste like ambrosia when he’s this hungover.

Once he's awake enough he motions for Sam to continue.

Sam rolls his eyes but obliges. “So I know you probably want to do this alone, but I also thought I should check in case you want a ride,” he nods his head at Dean's slumping figure, “considering the circumstances.”

An immediate rebuttal fills Dean’s mouth. All he needs is an hour or two to shake it off and he’ll be good to go. But then he thinks about how he was in Valis for four years and only saw Sam once. Maybe some time in the car together isn’t a bad idea. “Alright. Gimme a chance to shower and shave. We can grab some grub on the way.”

Dean spills out the door, fumbling with an oversized pair of sunglasses some nameless fling left behind years — months — ago. He sighs in pleasure as they block the worst of the relentless sun trying its best to blind him.

“You look ridiculous.”

Dean tosses the keys to Sam. “Shut up and drive, bitch.”

Sam rolls his eyes, muttering, “jerk” under his breath but a smile plays at the corner of his lips.

Dean makes him keep the radio off for the first half hour of the drive as he nurses the remnants of his hangover, but by the time they pull over for breakfast he’s feeling himself again and takes the keys back. There’s no way he’s showing up as a passenger in his own car.

Sam picks his brain about the simulation as they drive and Dean answers his questions to the best of his abilities. The more Sam asks the more Dean realizes that it really was a poor substitute for reality. As they near Wichita though, Dean turns the radio up until Sam gets the hint. He needs a couple of minutes to psych himself up for this. He knows there’s still a chance this whole trip could be a wash. The bookstore could be closed on weekends — shit, why didn’t he think of that before — and he still doesn’t know if the home address he found online is current. There’s also the possibility that Cas got his messages but isn’t interested. 

But the thing is, Cas is a solid dude. Even if once he was out of the simulation he decided thanks, but no thanks, he wouldn’t leave Dean hanging. He’d at least reach out to say goodbye. Right?

By the time they pull into Wichita, Dean’s palms are damp and his leg is jittering hard enough to jostle the steering wheel. He can’t help it though. He’s more nervous than he was the first time he made it to second base. At least he had an idea of what to expect that time.

“You doing okay? Want me to drive again?” 

Dean forces his leg to still. “Nope. Still good.” He makes a sudden decision and swings into a strip mall. 

Sam looks around frowning. “What are we doing here? I thought it was on Addison?”

“It is. But you are going to — ” he pauses to survey the storefronts. “Grab a coffee at Woody’s or get your hair done at Mane Affair.” 

“Are you serious?” 

Dean sighs. “Look Sam, I appreciate you coming out with me, but I need to do this part alone. I’ll check in with you in an hour.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asks.

“Yes.” When Sam makes no move to get out, Dean waves his hand saying, “Shoo!”

Sam pulls a face but gets out. “If you leave me stranded here I’m going to be pissed.”

“Nah, I’ll come get ya. But why don’t you go get that mane of yours cut while you wait?”

The look Sam gives is the same one he gave Dean when he was thirteen and it brings a sense of normalcy and calm to the situation.

“Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

When he pulls up to the bookstore, the first thing Dean notices is that it’s not called Readful Things. Instead the storefront displays the same name he saw on Google Maps, Black Oak Books. He steps inside, unease crawling beneath his skin. 

A smiling brunette woman is behind the counter, chatting to an elderly lady. He walks the narrow aisles, hoping Cas is just shelving books or something, but the store is small and it only takes about five minutes to see that he isn’t there. 

He waits until the old woman pays for her purchase then steps up to the counter. “Hey, is the owner in?”

Her smile turns slightly wary. “That would be me! I’m Hannah. How can I help you?”

“Uh.” Dean rubs at his chin as he regains his equilibrium. “Do you know a Castiel Novak?” 

Her expression clears. “Oh! Are you a friend of his? If you see him before I do can you let him know that the beekeeping guide he ordered came in?” She smiles and adds, “I can hold it for him until payday though, he doesn’t need to worry.”

“So, uh, he doesn’t work here?”

“No, he’s one of my regulars but —” her eyes narrow and she takes a step back. “Who are you again? And how do you know Cas?”

Dean mumbles an apology and staggers out the door. When he gets in Baby, he rests his head on the steering wheel. He’d come here to solve the final piece of the puzzle. Instead he’s been given a handful of pieces with nowhere to place them. He knows Cas is real now. Two people have confirmed it. But it’s almost like he’s a mirage — the closer Dean thinks he is, the farther Cas seems to slip out of his reach. 

He stays where he is, hunched over and breathing slowly, until the car windows fog over, erasing the bookshop that should have been Cas’ from his view. Once the hammering of his heart eases, he forces himself to text Sam, not trusting his voice.

_Bookshop was a bust see you in 5_

He drives slowly, ignoring the cars passing him aggressively. The air in the car is stifling and thick and he rolls down a window for some relief. He doesn’t understand any of this. How can Cas be real and the bookstore be real, and yet not related? Did Cas used to own the bookstore? If so, why didn’t Hannah mention that? Are Dean’s memories from Valis less reliable than he thought? It’s the only explanation that seems to make sense and it makes the greasy food in his stomach churn. 

What else is he remembering wrong?

He pulls into the strip mall and honks his horn, keeping his gaze trained ahead as Sam climbs in. This is another reason he should have come out here alone. So that if things went to shit he could lick his wounds in private. 

Sam fidgets quietly for a moment before asking, “Do you wanna talk about—”

“He wasn’t there.” Dean ignores Sam’s expectant look and focuses on the road.

“Alright. So what next?”

“Next we grab some gas and check the home address.” If that’s a wash too, Dean isn’t sure what he’ll do next. He was so certain after talking to Charlie that this would be it. He’d show up, Cas would roll his eyes or say some snarky remark about it taking long enough, and then they’d pick things back up. 

Now he sees that wouldn’t have been possible even if he’d found Cas at the bookstore, or hell even if he’d found Cas before he left the facility. They have two separate lives and they live hours apart. If Cas even lives in Wichita at all. The one thing he’s learned today is that he doesn’t know as much about Cas as he thought. 

He turns the radio up to discourage any further questions and keeps an eye out for a gas station. He’s pretty sure he passed one on his way to the bookstore and nods when it comes into view a few minutes later. At least he can still trust some of his memories. 

The card reader at the pump is busted. All of his mounting frustration boils over and he lets his fist fly toward the screen. He pulls back at the last moment and takes a deep breath, letting his hand fall. He could use a coffee anyway. It’s not a big deal. 

Sam unfolds his lanky body out of the passenger side. “Everything cool?”

“Yeah, gotta head inside. Want anything?”

“No, I’m good, just going to stretch my legs a bit.” 

Dean nods and heads inside. Might as well pick up some booze too. He has a feeling he’ll need it later.

The electronic bell dings when he walks in but there’s nobody behind the counter. He picks up a six pack and grabs a big pretzel from the hot food area but when he gets to the coffee station the pot is empty. 

Fighting down the anger that wants to erupt he sets his beer on the counter and pokes his head through the door marked employees only and calls, “Anybody here?”

“Sorry, just a minute.”

The paper around the pretzel crinkles in his hand as he involuntarily squeezes. He knows that gravelly voice. It takes him three tries to get the word, “Cas?” out of his mouth.

Cas comes through the door like a whirlwind, balancing a carafe of coffee, a mop, and a bucket in his hands. He looks like a mess. Deep bags under his blue eyes, his hair sticking up in the back, and an ink stain spreading out from the pocket of his blue vest like a starburst.

But it’s undeniably him, here and in the flesh, and the sheer unabashed victory that strums through Dean’s veins has him buzzing. None of the details matter. Cas is here.

“Cas! Oh my god.” His laugh is strangled and half hysterical but he doesn’t think Cas will care. “I can’t believe it’s you. Fucking hell.”

He drops the crushed pretzel and steps forward to hug him but Cas steps back with a frown.

“Do I know you?”

His exhilaration turns to fear so quickly he gets nauseous. “Don’t mess around, man. It’s not funny. You have no idea how hard I’ve been looking for you.”

Cas’ eyes widen and he takes a step back, leaning the mop and bucket against the wall. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“No I don’t. Castiel Novak. You took every course in theology and philosophy that KU offered but never bothered taking the interdisciplinary ones you needed to graduate. You love the feel of a book in your hands and think e-readers are a bane on society.” He’s about to mention opening the bookstore but he stops himself, remembering just in time.

Cas is squinting at him like so many times before, but this time it’s in wariness and it breaks Dean’s heart. He swallows thickly as he prays that this is all just some bizarre joke.

“C’mon, Cas it’s me. You know me. You even told me the real reason for your discharge and —” 

Cas’ expression hardens and he cuts Dean off. “I don’t know who you are, but I think you should leave.”

He jerks back as if Cas physically slapped him. Truth told that would have been less painful. He struggles to find a way to make things right.

“Dean? I just got a call from the office and —” Sam lumbers around the corner and stops. “Oh, hey.”

Cas turns back to Dean and frowns, a flicker of recognition crossing his face. “Dean Winchester?”

Dean lets out a shaky exhale and smiles wide enough he feels his eyes crinkle. “Yes, fuck, you had me worried. It’s me, Dean!”

“You sent me a Facebook friend request. And left a message on my cousin’s phone. What’s going on?”

Dean closes his eyes and rubs the sides of his face. He’s gonna get seasick from all the emotional whiplash. “Jesus, Cas. I’m so fucking confused right now.” 

Sam whips his head around. “Cas? _The_ Cas?” He hold his hand out, apparently blind to the tension. “I'm Sam. Dean's brother.”

Cas hesitates but shakes his hand. “Listen I’m not sure what's going on here, but I have work to do.”

“We met in Valis!” Dean says, desperate to jog Cas’ memory.

Cas’ expression shutters and he drops Sam's hand. “If you’re with Proxima then you should be well aware that you are not to contact me without my attorney present.” The front door chimes followed by the sound of footsteps. “Excuse me, I have customers.”

Dean feels hope skipping away from him and he lunges forward, grabbing Cas’ arm. “Wait. I have no idea what’s going on here. We're not with Proxima. I swear.”

Cas narrows his eyes at Dean's hand on his arm and Dean hastily removes it. 

“Just hear me out. Please?” He lowers his voice as two teenagers enter the aisle behind them, making no attempt at hiding their interest. “Meet me for dinner.” When Cas frowns he amends it to, “Or lunch! Coffee, drinks, whatever you want. I promise I can explain.” 

He tries to replicate Sam's famous puppy dog eyes and adds, “I drove hours to get here. Please?”

Cas stares at him long enough that Dean nearly gives up but then he deflates. “Fine.”

It's one word and not exactly an enthusiastic response, but Dean feels like he won the lottery. “Awesome. Just tell me where and when.”

The teenagers are openly watching them now and Cas looks flustered. “I get off at eight. Just meet me here.”

“Awesome. Great. I'll be here. Eight sharp. Thanks.” He knows he sounds like an idiot but he can't seem to stop babbling. “l’ll uh, see you then. Bye.”

Giggles follow him out of the store and he curses the ability of teenage girls to make him feel like an old fool. Still, not even their gawking can take away the hope blossoming inside him. 

Nothing may have gone as he hoped or planned but Cas is real, he's here and he's willing to talk with him. Dean’s counting it as a win.

He hums Led Zeppelin as he slides behind the wheel, wondering if playing some of their favorite songs could help Cas remember. He mentally compiles a list of songs to put on a tape as Sam climbs in.

“Hey Dean?”

Dean mumbles, "what?” not fully listening.

“We still need gas.”


	6. Chapter 6

Baby’s on fumes by the time the next gas station comes into view, but Dean wasn’t going to push his luck by going back to Cas’ store. His chance to rekindle things with Cas feels incredibly precarious right now and he doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. 

Sam pokes and prods for information about what happened, but Dean stonewalls him, not ready to talk about it. He eventually accepts Dean’s need for space and turns his attention to his phone, leaving Dean to muse on what Cas said. With his own memory gaps he isn’t surprised that Cas has some too, but how could he forget Dean completely? 

He drives around aimlessly for a while as he considers how best to approach Cas tonight. He doesn’t want to scare him off by revealing everything all at once, but he can’t stand the idea of Cas not knowing what they meant to each other. When they pass a large shopping mall Dean has an idea and pulls in.

“You’re not dropping me off with another haircut quip, Dean.”

“Shut up. I need to get a few things.” He casts an appraising eye at Sam. “I’m sure there’s some type of salon inside though. Might wanna flip through their book and see if inspiration strikes.” 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Ha ha. I think I’m actually gonna grab a rental car and head back.”

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. “Really? It’s only gonna be a few hours. They’re gonna charge you up the wazoo if you do a one-way rental.”

“Yeah, I know, but we had an important case come in that Jess wants me to look at. The firm offered to pay for the car.”

Dean blinks and cups a hand to his ear. “ _Jess_? Since when is Senior Partner Moore just Jess?” Dean teases. “You shacking up with the boss now? I gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I’ve told you before, she’s not my boss. We work in different departments.” He fidgets with his phone, turning it in his hands. “We’re just friends.”

Dean opens his mouth to harass Sam more, but remembers Sam’s willingness to let him be and changes tactics. “Do you need a ride?”

Sam looks at his phone again. “No it’s cool. The place is only a few blocks over. I could use the exercise.” He glances at Dean’s stomach and adds, “Well, not as much as some people.”

Dean reaches across and opens the passenger door. “That’s enough out of you. Go play kissy face with your not-boss who’s just a friend.”

Sam makes a face but gets out, pausing with his hand on the roof. “You’re okay with me leaving, right? I said I was available to come in to work because I figured it would give you and Cas more time to talk. But if you want me here, I’ll stay.”

A soft smile crosses Dean’s face. As much shit as they give each other, he never doubts that Sam has his back. “Nah, I’m good Sammy.”

“Alright. Text me and let me know how things went when you're back home.”

Dean locks the car and pulls his jacket around him to cut out the brisk wind. “Yeah, yeah. Bye Samantha.” Before Sam gets too far he yells, "Don’t do anything I wouldn’t with Ms. Moore!” 

Dean laughs as Sam flips him off without turning around.

When Dean gets inside the mall he runs through a quick list of items that might help jog Cas’ memory. He’d dressed up a bit, hoping to make a good impression, but instead he grabs a dark green henley and a flannel to go over it. Cas always liked him in green. His next purchase is a copy of Timequake. It’s one of the first things they bonded over, discussing Vonnegut’s feelings on free will. They don’t have the same edition, but he hopes it might still nudge a memory into place. 

He’s at a bit of a loss after that and wanders the mall as he thinks. He’s got some tapes in Baby that maybe they can listen to, but he wishes he had time to make Cas a personal mix. It’s cheesy and feels girly as hell but so many of their memories together had music as a backdrop. Maybe later — if there is a later.

When he finishes shopping he still has over an hour to kill before Cas is off work. He makes one last stop and grabs a toothbrush and toothpaste and spends some time in the store’s bathroom cleaning up. When he’s as presentable as he’s gonna be he heads back to Baby to wait. He cracks open the new copy of Timequake and quickly loses himself in it despite it being the fifth or sixth time he’s read it. 

His pulse picks up as the alarm on his phone goes off. He clenches the steering wheel tightly to quell the slight trembling in his hands as he makes his way back to the Gas N Sip. There’s a rolling feeling in his stomach that’s somewhere between butterflies and elephants and by the time he can see the gas station up ahead his entire body is taut with tension.

He sees an open sign in a florist shop at the last minute and swerves to turn in. Dean’s in luck and they have what he’s looking for: a simple bouquet of irises and baby’s breath. He has the florist wrap them in plain brown kraft paper and gets back on the road, pulling into the Gas N Sip two minutes before eight. 

Nothing has gone as he expected since his time in Valis and he tries to rein in his expectations as he walks inside the gas station. It’s hard though when Cas walks out from behind the counter, free of his blue vest, and looking so familiar and handsome that it makes Dean ache. 

He thrusts the bouquet ahead of him and grunts out a thick, “These are for you.” 

Cas’s forehead wrinkles as he stares at the bouquet. The moment stretches into uncomfortableness as the new cashier hides a laugh behind her hand. Right as Dean is about to take the flowers back Cas slowly reaches forward and takes them. 

“Thank you. Irises are my favorite.” He offers Dean the first smile since — well the first smile ever really, and it takes Dean’s breath away.

Dean can’t hide the goofy grin that spreads across his face. “I know.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Cas instantly shuts down with a wary expression replacing the gentle smile of before. “I think we should talk.” He steps past Dean and towards the exit. The hand holding the bouquet moves towards the trash bin by the door and Dean’s heart sinks but Cas pulls his hand back at the last moment, instead dropping it to his side and letting the flowers dangle from his hand.

Dean takes a deep breath as he follows Cas outside. Not a great start, but could have been worse. Right before the door shuts behind him the cashier calls, “Good luck, handsome.”

Cas walks to a late 70s continental and leans against the driver’s side door, flowers hanging from his hands awkwardly. Dean inwardly groans. This car is even worse than the Focus he drove in Valis. 

“Alright. You told me you could explain.” Cas narrows his eyes and crosses his arms, but the effect is ruined by the flowers dangling from his hand. 

Dean exhales through his nose to hide a soft laugh that he doesn’t think Cas would appreciate. He just looks so awkward and suspicious and so very Cas that it’s hard to remember that in some ways he’s a stranger.

A car pulls up next to them and a trio of tipsy college students pour out. Once they enter the store he clears his throat. “I will, but it’s kind of a lot. Is there anywhere we can sit down?” He holds up two fingers. “Scout’s honor, all I wanna do is talk.”

Cas looks away then nods. “There’s a place two blocks down. We can walk.” He opens the passenger’s side door and exchanges the flowers for a familiar beige trench coat before nodding for Dean to follow him out of the parking lot.

Dean walks a half step behind, trying not to invade his space too much. It gives him a chance to take in the view too. He can’t stop looking at Cas. Seeing him here, in person right in front of him, the difference between reality and Valis suddenly becomes apparent. All the main details are the same; it’s the little stuff that he now realizes he was missing. The way a stray drop of sweat clings to the short hair on the back of his neck. The way his trench coat is worn and frayed at the edges of the cuffs. The spot on his jaw that he missed while shaving. Small details that Valis smoothed away, and that he can’t stop appreciating now that he sees them.

When Cas stops in front of a dingy bar, Dean nearly walks into him, too captivated by the way the streetlights color the lighter strands of his hair. He mumbles an apology and steps back, nerves reigniting. If Cas turns him away now he’s not sure what he’ll do. He’s already smitten again. 

When they enter the bar, Cas is greeted warmly by the bartender who takes their order. The place is just one shade north of seedy, but something about it is familiar. He takes in the worn pool tables and dark cherry seating and it hits him. This is where he met Cas in Valis. It was much cleaner and brighter in there though and without the haze of smoke lingering. He wonders if that’s how Cas sees this place. 

They sit down at an empty table and a heavy silence falls. Dean knows it’s up to him to break it, to explain why the fuck he’s here, but every time he opens his mouth around Cas it seems to be a disaster. 

When Dean fails to say anything Cas sighs and rubs at his eyes. “Look, you’re an extremely attractive man, but if this was all some bizarre ploy to ask me on a date, I’m really not interested right now.”

Dean widens his eyes. “No way, I’m not — I mean I kind of am, but —” He stops and removes the foot from his mouth. “Let me start over. I told you that I know you from Valis.”

The suspicion immediately returns. “Yes.”

“I have nothing to do with those assholes though. I was one of the test subjects like you. We met in the program.” He stares into Cas’ eyes, hoping for some flicker of recognition.

Cas ducks his gaze though, instead focusing on an old water ring left on the table. “Oh.” He runs his finger through the liquid. “I don’t remember that.”

Dean swallows and musters a weak smile. “Yeah I’m realizing that now. Sorry I came on so strong before. I, uh, expected you to recognize me.”

Cas still doesn’t look up, eyes focused on a drop of water he’s separated from the rest. “I’m sorry. There was a problem with my implant and it wiped all of my memories of the test.”

Dean’s hands spasm in his lap. “All of them?”

Cas nods, finally looking up with pained eyes. “And a few others. I’ve basically got a blank spot for the last two months.”

Dean sits in shock. He’d thought his missing week was bad, but at least his memory was sorting itself out now. He swallows and asks, “Do they know when they’ll come back?”

The smile Cas shoots him is wry and bitter. “They won’t. Something about ‘too long of an interruption during memory reconsolidation’ or something.”

The air quotes he was missing are back but Dean barely registers them. “So that’s that? There’s nothing they can do?” His voice comes out choked with grief. “They can’t, y’know, consolidate them again or something?”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “I’m touched by your concern, but no. I’m sorry that I don’t remember meeting you, but that’s unlikely to change. I didn’t realize I’d met the other participants. Their lawyer made it sound like the trial was individual.”

Dean laughs dryly and looks up at the wood beams of the ceiling. He’d prepared for a fuzzy memory but not this. He squares his shoulders and meets Cas’ eyes. “You know how I told you it was a long story? Well, it just got a lot longer.” 

When Dean finishes a highly condensed version of the story, poorly remembered explanations from Charlie included, Cas drops his head to the table and laughs, his sleeve landing right in the water ring he’d been playing with before. It’s not the reaction Dean expected.

When he looks up again his expression is twisted with uncertainty. “I don’t know what to think. This is the most outlandish thing I’ve ever heard yet I can’t think of any reason you would make this up.” 

“I swear I’m not making it up. You can talk to Charlie. She can explain it way better.” Dean licks his lips and just barely stops himself from reaching across the table to grab Cas’ hand. “Everything I told you is true. I know it sounds crazy but it is.”

Cas pinches the bridge of his nose. “If you really knew me you’d understand how crazy this is. Who you are describing isn’t me. I’m not,” he takes a breath and meets Dean’s gaze forcefully. “I’m not relationship material, Dean, and I’m definitely not looking for a relationship now. So I’m not sure exactly what you’re hoping for or wanting out of this.” 

Dean’s chest tightens as he struggles to form words. “Whatever you’re willing to give, Cas. I had to find you. I —” he breaks off and tries again. “What about just getting to know each other?”

Cas appraises him warily then nods. “I wouldn’t be adverse to that. You’ve told me that I’m not just missing a few months but whole years spent inside the program. I’d like to know more about it.” When Dean breaks into a grin he holds up a hand. “I meant what I said though. I’m not looking for anything more right now. I’ve got too much on my plate as it is.”

Dean nods enthusiastically and gives him a thumbs up. “Understood. Ball’s completely in your court.”

Cas seems to relax at that and smiles. “So do you live here in Wichita?”

“Nah. I’m over in Lawrence.”

Cas shakes his head. “I can’t believe you drove all this way. Sorry it wasn’t worth it.”

Dean smiles and means every word when he says, “Trust me. It was.”


	7. Chapter 7

By the time they leave the bar it’s too late for Dean to head back home so he grabs a room for the night and makes plans to meet Cas for lunch the next day. 

He expects to feel crushed after their conversation. Not only has Cas lost all memories of their relationship, he’s also uninterested in repeating it. But when faced with the prospect of Cas in his life as a friend or Cas not in his life at all, the choice is clear. Cas wasn’t just his husband in the program, he was his best friend. He’s not sure how shelving his feelings will work but he is willing to try. They can address it later if they need to. For now he just wants to show Cas that he’s worth knowing.

As soon as he thinks it a wave of doubt rolls over him. Is he worth knowing? He thinks back to his conversation with Sam, about how he’s never had a successful relationship in all his years. He can pretty much extend that to platonic relationships as well. Even the people he’s known for years are more acquaintances than friends. Maybe Cas would be better off without Dean.

He drops onto the creaky mattress with a sigh. It’s too late to worry about it now. He’ll see how lunch goes tomorrow. Besides, Cas deserves to have his questions answered. He can’t imagine how it must feel to find out you had an entire relationship you don’t remember. Even if it was only in their minds. 

He texts back and forth with Sam for a while, giving him a condensed explanation of the situation. After sending one last text promising that he really is fine he trades his phone for the remote and flips through the staticky TV channels mindlessly, settling on an old episode of Doctor Sexy. When he sees it’s the one where Nurse Angelique gets amnesia he nearly turns it off, but it’s a really good episode even if a bit on the nose. 

That night when he dreams of kissing Cas he’s in cowboy boots.

 

Cas is waiting for him outside the gas station when he pulls up the next day, an overloaded tote bag in his lap. When he sees Dean he extends a hand in greeting and jogs over, threadbare jeans stretching across his thighs and showcasing the muscle beneath with every step. Dean looks away. Cas isn’t his to ogle anymore.

Books spill out of the bag as he climbs into Baby and he mutters, “Sorry,” he as he stuffs them back inside.

“Don't worry about it. What're all these for anyway?” Dean asks as he hands him back a book.

“I’ve been doing split shifts so I’ve got a lot of time to fill in the afternoon. I'm thinking about taking a beginner apiarist class next semester so I’m starting on the recommended reading now.”

“An apiarist class?”

“Oh that means — ”

“Beekeeping. Yeah I know. I just didn’t know they offered college courses.” 

“It’s a new addition. Do you have an interest too?”

Dean laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “No not really. But I, uh, bought you a gift certificate for a backyard beekeeping class for your birthday last year.”

Cas’ mouth forms a perfectly round _O_ while his cheeks pinken to match his lips.

Dean clears his throat and puts the car into drive. “Sorry I didn't mean to make things weird.”

“No it's fine,” Cas says but he shakes his head and focuses on his bag. He takes out Dean's new copy of Timequake. “Sorry I must have grabbed this by mistake. How far along are you?” 

“Oh I've read it multiple times.”

Cas pulls back from placing it in the back seat and rifles through the pages instead. “What do you think of the way he handles free will compared to his earlier works?”

Dean grins and hangs his arm outside the window, tapping the door in time to the music playing low on the stereo. “Well I think it’s much more important to consider his views on time.”

They argue their various viewpoints all the way to the diner and throughout lunch. It’s a discussion Dean’s had with Cas countless times, one of those subjects they never grew tired of discussing and that they would dive back into with the slightest provocation. It’s the first time Dean’s truly felt back in his element since he came out of the program.

“I just don’t think that as a humanist Vonnegut truly believed in determinism. That doesn’t mean he thought free will was a good thing. I’ve always felt like freedom is a length of—” Cas breaks off and narrows his eyes. “What?”

Dean bites his lip and shakes his head. “Nothing continue. Freedom is a length of rope and?”

Cas drops his forehead to the table. “Oh my god. You’ve heard this all before. I must be boring you to death.”

“No way! Not at all!” He slides his hand across the table and almost lays it over Cas’ but catches himself and pulls back, clasping his hands together underneath the table to prevent temptation. “It’s something we talked about a lot but it’s not something I ever got tired of discussing.”

Cas looks up, his eyes warm and curious. “I appreciate you indulging me all the same. It’s not often I get to put my Philosophy 101 credits to use.” He leans back against the booth and tilts his head. “Really though. What are you getting out of this? Isn’t it boring talking to someone who keeps telling you jokes and stories you’ve already heard?”

“Not at all.” His voice comes out much fonder than he means it to and he worries he’s scared Cas off, but he’s still looking back at him expectantly. “You’ve gotta realize. I’m not—” he pauses to choose his words. “It’s like you said about yourself. I’m not relationship material either. I’ve fucked up every time I’ve tried. But with you, in Valis, it’s like there was no trying. We just slotted together. And not just romantically, we were friends, good friends who had a pretty awesome time together.” He pauses and shrugs his voice wobbling revealingly. “I’d feel lucky to get to experience that again with you. Any of it.”

Cas swallows and opens his mouth but says nothing, dropping his eyes to the table instead, shoulders hunched and tense. 

Dean kicks himself for playing his cards too quickly and searches for something to say that can salvage the situation. “Besides it obviously isn’t exactly the same. In the simulation you ran that bookstore down the street.” 

Cas straightens up, the subject change appearing to work. “Black Oak Books?” When Dean nods Cas says, “It makes sense. I do love that place. I can lose hours just browsing the shelves sometimes.”

Dean smiles softly. “Yeah, running a bookstore suited you.” 

“It does sound nice. Maybe someday.” Cas’ expression is doubtful though. He tops his beer off and takes a long drink as Dean looks away from the exposed line of his throat. “So what about you? Did Valis set you up in some ideal job too?”

“Nope, nothing special. Just worked at my shop.”

Cas’ eyebrows lift. “That doesn’t seem fair. I get my dream job and you get stuck changing oil?”

Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “I like it. I'm my own boss and I've always enjoyed fixing cars. And hey, I was working on some cool cars in there. Like one of a kind gems I’d never actually see in my shop.” He picks at a stain on the table, avoiding Cas’ eyes. He's used to people judging him for being a mechanic but he's not used to Cas judging him for it.

“Hey.” Cas ducks his head to catch Dean’s eyes. “That came out wrong. I think it’s great you enjoy your job.” The side of his mouth lifts, “And being a mechanic beats cleaning bathrooms at a gas station.”

Dean tilts his head in acceptance of that. “Fair enough. I’m definitely glad you weren’t stuck cleaning toilets while we were in there.”

Cas wrinkles his nose. “Yeah, me too. Working at the Gas n Sip for four years is something I hope to avoid.” He traces the mouth of his glass with one long finger. “I wonder why the program decided it should make up an imaginary job for me but not for you.”

Dean shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t know. I guess it wanted to keep us happy. And that’s surrounded by cars for me and surrounded by books for you. If you really wanna know, Charlie might have some ideas and she’s dying to meet you.”

“I wouldn’t mind picking her brain about some of this.”

Dean pulls out his phone. “I could see what she’s doing, if you wanna talk to her now.”

Cas laughs and places his hand on Dean’s, sending a wave of sparks down Dean’s skin. “I meant later. I have to get back to work soon. But why don’t you give her my number.”

Dean nods but all he can concentrate on is the warmth of Cas’ hand covering his own. It’s an easy intimacy they’ve shared hundreds of times before, but it’s the first time Cas has touched him here, in the real world, outside of Valis and their minds. As authentic as every touch felt before, this is something new, and Dean doesn’t think he’ll forget the electric feel of Cas’ skin on his anytime soon. 

A beeping causes Cas to pull back and check his phone. “I’ve been enjoying our talk but I really should have left fifteen minutes ago.”

“Sure, I understand.” Dean says even though he wants to beg him not to leave. “I’ll give you a lift.” 

They go back to discussing Kant versus Hume in the car and before he knows it they’re at the gas station. Dean’s heart feels sluggish and weighted down as he realizes he’s not sure when he’ll see Cas again. He’s tempted to stay another night but he’d already promised himself he wouldn’t do that to Benny.

He clears his throat as Cas reaches for the door handle. “I’ve gotta head back to Lawrence tonight, but is it still okay if we stay in touch? It’s not a bad drive and I would love to see you again sometime.”

Cas nods. “I’d like that.” He keeps his hand on the door handle but doesn’t open it. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t looking for a relationship, but,” he turns to Dean with a wry smile, “I really like you. So I’d like to see you again. Both to find out more about what happened in the program and to get to know you better. Maybe we can do this again next weekend? I’m off on Saturday evening.”

Dean’s torn between disbelief and elation. 

When he doesn’t say anything Cas frowns. “If that works for you.”

“Yes! Saturday sounds great! I’m just a little surprised. I figured the only reason you even spoke to me last time was ‘cuz of my pretty face.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “I can already tell there’s much more to you than that.” He gets out of Baby but leans back in through the window. “Thank you. For lunch and for the ride.”

“No problem, thanks for giving me a chance. I’ll see you next weekend. Have a good night.”

“You too. Goodbye Dean.”


	8. Chapter 8

The first thing Dean does when he gets home is text Sam and Charlie, followed by a call to Benny asking him to cover at the shop next Monday. He doesn’t want to make any assumptions with Cas, but if the way their first date in Valis went is any indication, he wants the option for a long weekend open.

The next few days pass torturously slow, as he counts the hours, minutes, and seconds until the weekend. When he finally closes up shop on Friday, it’s to numerous jeers and bets about how many hickeys Dean will have come Tuesday. He takes it all in stride, knowing he deserves it for the amount of lovesick pining he’s subjected them to. 

He spends the rest of the night tearing apart his closet and trying on stuff he hasn’t worn in years. After he gets stuck in a shirt that was probably too tight when he was twenty he gives up and reminds himself that this is Cas he’s trying to impress. He loves the dude, but the guy doesn’t understand or care about fashion in the slightest. Cas would wear the same thing every day if he could get away with it so he’s probably not even going to notice what Dean’s wearing. He packs just like usual. If flannel and t-shirts were good enough the first time they’re good enough now.

It’s hard to sleep again that night, but this time it’s due to anticipation. He ends up making that mix tape after all, limiting it to Led Zeppelin to narrow his selection. By the time he’s done it’s past midnight, but when he wakes up he’s as fresh and excited as a kid on Christmas morning.

He slips in the mix tape once he hits the road and lets himself fall into the memories it brings. He’s kept a tight leash on his heart these last few weeks, but with the sun bright in the sky and Cas waiting for him it’s hard not to let go and daydream. So he lets himself imagine Cas listening to the tape and suddenly remembering everything like in some cheesy Telenovela. He thinks of an entire weekend spent in Cas’ apartment, only leaving the comfort of the bed long enough to grab food and drinks. He’s not expecting miracles, but that doesn’t mean he’d turn one down. 

Dean tamps down his runaway thoughts as he pulls onto Cas’ street and gets his first look at Cas’ apartment building. It’s a dilapidated old brick building with narrow windows all lined with steel shutters. It’s depressing as fuck and Dean hopes Cas is planning on getting a new place with the funds from the trial. 

He texts to let Cas know that he has arrived but before he can hit send Cas is already approaching the car.

When Cas gets to the car, he pauses before getting in and leans down to give Dean a warm smile. “Hello, Dean.”

It's just two words and two ordinary words at that, but the familiarity of them and the warmth in Cas’ voice wraps around Dean like a favorite blanket. 

“Hey, Cas.” He clears his throat to get rid of the huskiness. “I didn't even get a chance to text you. The psychic powers are definitely a new development.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “No psychic powers needed. I'm pretty sure the entire building heard your arrival.”

Dean pats the dash. “He means that as a compliment, Baby.” When Cas frowns he holds up a finger and says, “he does.”

Dean keeps the mix tape playing on their way to the bar as he steals glances at Cas from the corner of his eye. There’s no magical moment where he turns to Dean with tears in his eyes and recites the first time Dean played Zeppelin for him in Valis, but Cas seems to enjoy the music all the same, tapping his scuffed chucks along with the beat.

The bar is more crowded than last time and while they wait to place their orders, Cas is shoved into Dean's side by the passing crowd. Dean shoots a hand out to balance Cas and his thumb grazes the skin of Cas’ hip where his jeans are riding low.

Dean jerks his hand back but the apology dies on his tongue as he takes in the flirty glint in Cas’ eyes. He swallows and orders a pair of beers for them with a voice gone hoarse as Cas remains pressed to his side.

There’s no available seating yet so they wait on ordering food and take their beers to a bare chunk of wall with a good view of the small stage. He clinks glasses with Cas but before he can propose a toast, the table behind them erupts into cheers as the opening act walks on and launches into a warbling rendition of Patsy Cline’s “Crazy.”

As the crowd sways and shifts closer to them, Cas moves into Dean’s space, cheap aftershave filling Dean’s nose and mouth close enough to kiss. Dean’s breath stutters and Cas’ eyes flicker down to his mouth, just for a moment but long enough that it sends Dean’s heart thrumming. He bypasses Dean’s lips though, instead bringing his mouth close enough to Dean’s ear to be heard over the din.

“Sorry. We should have gotten here a bit earlier I guess. We can go someplace else if you’d like.” His breath is warm and smells sweet like the cinnamon candies little old ladies always have. 

Dean shakes his head and brings himself even further into Cas’ orbit. “No, this is perfect. This is where we met you know.”

Cas pulls back far enough to look Dean in the eyes. “You’re kidding. I included this place in my simulation?”

Dean nods. “Yup. And somehow I ended up in it too.” He glances around and tilts his head toward the ratty pool tables in the back. “Those tables were in much better condition though. This whole place was. I wouldn't have pegged it for a dive bar from the way you saw it.”

“Interesting.” Cas looks around him slowly, eyes methodically scanning the bar. He returns his attention to Dean and smiles. “So tell me about how we met.” 

Dean groans. “I was a dumbass when we met. I’m actually glad I get a do over. I’m surprised you gave me the time of day.”

Cas grins and leans in even closer. “You have my attention.”

Dean takes a drink of his beer and sighs. “Well the first thing to know is that I was still in the closet.”

Cas squints. “Wait, so you were in the closet before the simulation, came out in the simulation, then came out of the program and had to come out again?”

Dean scratches his ear and chuckles. “Yeah it’s been a little weird. I feel like I came out four years ago so I’ll forget that I haven’t and then it’s like, surprise!”

“That must be fun.” Cas gives Dean a studious once over, eyes lingering on him long enough that Dean flushes under the attention. “Let me guess. I hit on you and embarrassed the shit out of you.”

Dean shoots him finger guns. “Got it in one. Flustered doesn’t being to cover it. I assured you I didn’t swing that way, but couldn’t stop checking you out. I was a mess.”

“I hope I wasn’t too mean to you,” Cas says.

Dean smiles. “Not at all. You were cool. Told me you understood but to hit you up if I changed my mind.” 

Cas leans in and raises an eyebrow. “And? Are you telling me that worked?”

“Eventually.” Dean licks his lips and hopes Cas can’t see the way his pulse jumps when Cas’ eyes follow the movement. “I kept looking at you but whenever you caught me I just tried to do a manly nod of acknowledgement.” He demonstrates and Cas rewards him with a low laugh.

“So what made you give in?”

“I don’t know exactly. Maybe it was being somewhere new, maybe Valis gave me a burst of courage, who knows. But it had been a few hours and we were both still here. You started messing around at the pool table in the back. Not really playing, just knocking some balls in while you waited for your drink. And I got up my courage and asked if you wanted a game.”

Cas groans, “Don’t tell me you bet a kiss or something like that.”

Dean laughs. “C’mon I’m not that lame. We played a little pool and then I lightly mentioned that maybe you were right before and that maybe I was ready for you to, uh, show me the ropes.” He takes a drink of beer and looks at a point over Cas’ shoulder, struggling to keep his lips from twitching, “And then you showed me. In the bathroom.”

Cas bites his lip. “Oh my god. It’s not exactly meeting at Bible study is it?”

“Hey, I didn’t say it was the type of meet cute you tell your grandkids about.” They both laugh and warmth spreads through Dean like whiskey. 

“So who won the pool game?”

Dean nods to one of the pool tables in the back that’s opened up and waggles his eyebrows. “Care to find out for yourself?”

Cas narrows his eyes. “You’re on.”

Cas claims the table while Dean orders them another round and a basket of fries to share. By the time his order is ready the headlining band is up and he grins as they launch into a Yardbirds cover. He likes Patsy as much as the next person, but this is what he was hoping for. On his way back, he adds a flirty sway to his hips for show, but Cas isn’t looking. Instead he’s talking to some guy in a douchey pullover. When the guy reaches out and puts his hand on Cas’ shoulder Dean slows down, not wanting to interfere if Cas knows the guy. 

It soon becomes apparent that isn’t the case though as Cas removes the guy’s hand from his shoulder, expression hardening. Dean moves to step in, but there’s no need.

“I politely declined your company. That means it’s time for you to move on.” He gestures to Dean without taking his eyes off the other man. “My companion is here now and I’d rather not make a scene so please leave.”

The expression on the other man’s face sours. “You could have just told me you were here with someone.”

A muscle twitches in Cas’ jaw as he pushes into the other man’s space seeming more intimidating than Dean knew was possible. “Whether I am alone is not the factor. When someone declines your company you need to respect that.” He rolls his shoulders back, and the lean muscles underneath his shirt flex in a way that has Dean wishing his pants were a bit looser. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

Multiple people are looking in their direction now and the other man flushes and steps back into the crowd, muttering disparaging remarks as he goes.

Dean sucks his bottom lip in and grins. “Wow. Mark me down as scared and horny.”

Cas tilts his head and squints at Dean. “Okay.”

Dean sighs. Apparently the lack of pop culture knowledge was not unique to the simulation. “Nevermind. But uh, seeing you handing that guy his ass was pretty damn hot, not gonna lie.”

A sly smile crosses Cas’ face as he takes a step closer. “Is this how I originally seduced you? By putting some guy in his place?”

Dean holds his ground, letting Cas come close enough that their shoes touch. “Hey you haven’t seen my pool game yet. Who said you were the one doing the seducing.”

Cas chuckles low and throaty. “Alright you’re on.”

Cas is good at pool, much better than the average player, but Dean has two advantages over him. First of all, he’s played pool with Cas dozens of times in Valis and knows all his favorite angles, and second, Dean’s been playing pool since he was old enough to hold a stick.

Cas narrows his eyes at Dean after he loses their first game. “No wonder you had the guts to approach me. You knew you would blow me out of the water.”

Dean wiggles his eyebrows. “Someone sounds like a sore loser.”

“Says the person who just hustled me.” Cas steals the last two fries out of basket and mops up the remaining ketchup with them. “How’d you get so good at pool anyway?”

Dean shrugs a shoulder and forces a laugh. “When winning or losing a game determines whether your kid brother is gonna eat you learn all the tricks fast. I’ve hustled a lot of pool in my life.” 

The smile on Cas’ lips freezes and he coughs and takes a drink, gaze troubled. “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”

Dean winces, wishing he’d kept his mouth shut. “Sorry I guess that was a little heavy. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

Cas smiles, but the edges are strained. “It’s okay, I know how shitty fathers can be.”

Dean runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, didn’t mean to make you think about yours either.” Dean realizes this was the wrong thing to say as soon as the words are out of his mouth as an awkward silence stretches out between them. 

Dean’s about to apologize again when Cas pushes off from where he was leaning on the pool table. “Okay, well I’m not willing to concede defeat yet. I’m going to get myself a beer and get you something stronger and then we’ll see how the next game goes.”

Dean grins and calls after him, “Better make mine a double!”

Their next game is less pool and more flirting, but Dean still wins, sinking the eight ball despite Cas’ attempts to distract him by ghosting his fingers up and down Dean’s arms, sending shivers in their wake. 

“Ha! Take that.” 

Cas hooks his chin over Dean’s shoulder and nods at the pocket. “So you’ve bested me again. I suppose it’s only right to move on to your reward.”

Dean turns so that he’s facing Cas and raises an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Cas traps Dean against the pool table, slotting a knee between his and bracketing Dean’s waist with his arms. “Well, how exactly did you say this ended last time?”

Dean swallows and nods to the bathroom on the other wall, nerves strung too tight with anticipation to speak.

Cas grabs his hand and pulls him along, weaving in and out of the crowd with a confidence that has Dean grinning. Cas has always been a master of the don’t-fuck-with-me walk and seeing it in action has always turned Dean on.

The bathroom is blessedly empty when they walk in and Cas wastes no time, thumbing the lock and shoving Dean against the closed door, hands snaking under Dean’s shirt to traipse along his ribs. He mouths at Dean’s neck, grazing the skin with his teeth just hard enough to send shivers down Dean’s spine. Dean tilts his head back, granting Cas better access and fists a hand in Cas’ hair, the sweat-slick strands catching and pulling. He uses his free hand to pull Cas closer, jolting as their hips come into alignment. Cas shifts his weight and then rocks into him, and it’s through two layers of clothing each but Dean’s moaning all the same, thrusting back against him. 

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Cas breathes out as he runs his lips up Dean’s jaw, nose pressing into the hair behind Dean’s ear.

“You too, sweetheart.” Dean slides both hands down Cas’ back, stroking firm muscle until he gets to the curve of his ass. He contemplates pushing Cas back to unfasten his pants, but decides against it settling for kneading him through the material of his jeans. 

Cas makes an appreciative noise and slides his hands down to toy with Dean’s belt buckle. “I bet we have about five more minutes before someone hammers on the door. Let’s see if I can make you come before then.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans and thrusts into Cas, leaning down to suck a mark into the skin above his clavicle.

Cas gets Dean’s pants open but slides his hands to the back instead, hands slipping down the back of his boxers. “Christ, I’m in love with your ass.”

“Yeah, well I’m in love with _you_ ,” Dean teases. His tongue and brain are both loose from the alcohol and it takes him a minute to realize what he said and that Cas is no longer moving into him but pulling away from him, face drawn. “Wait,” Dean grasps at the sleeve of Cas’ shirt but let’s go. “Sorry. It just slipped out.”

Cas shakes his head, taking another step back. “This was a bad idea.”

“What? No.” Dean reaches for him but lets his hand drop when Cas takes another step back. “C'mon Cas, I'm sorry. It just happened. In my mind we just bought our first house together. Hard to remember we're not even married yet.”

Cas laughs unhappily, shaking his head. “That makes it worse. You’re not even here with me, you’re thinking of some other me that doesn’t exist! Someone I’ve never met.”

“That’s not —”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I need time to think.” He looks down and licks his lips, “I'll call you.”

Dean's stomach drops. He's said those words often enough to know exactly what they mean. “Please don't do this to me, Cas. Give me another chance.”

A muscle in Cas’ jaw ticks as he avoids Dean’s gaze, eyes trained on the floor like there’s some invisible script written there. “This isn’t going to work, Dean.”

Dean swallows the panic rising in his throat. “Why?”

“Look. You’re extremely hot and funny and I’d love to have a fun night or weekend with you.” Cas takes a deep breath and lifts his eyes. “But that’s all I want right now.” 

The words hurt more than Dean expects. He pushes the pain down and focuses on the positives, trying to keep his voice upbeat. “Great! Then let’s do it! Worked for us last time.” Dean’s aware he sounds desperate but he doesn’t care.

“Dean,” Cas trails off and pushes a hand through his hair roughly. “It’s not the same this time and you know it.” When Dean makes a noise of protest, he holds up a hand. “It’s not. I want to bang a hot stranger. You want to sleep with your husband.” He laughs but it’s bitter. “It’s fucked up and it’s not fair to either of us.”

Dean’s chest and eyes burn with the unfairness of it all. He wants to rail and scream at Cas for giving up so easily but the anger soon turns to numb despair.

“I'm just not sure how to reconcile the gross imbalance of our knowledge and understanding of each other.”

“I wouldn't call us gross.” The joke is weak but automatic and the tension in his chest eases ever so slightly when the corner of Cas’ mouth twitches. It isn’t much but it gives him the courage to ask, “Is there any chance we can try again or start over?”

Cas’ mouth firms up again. “I don’t know. I need to think. I’ll call you.” Dean’s face falls but Cas quickly adds, “When I say I’ll call you I mean it. I’m not making any promises about anything yet, except that. I’ll call you. Not tonight or tomorrow probably, but I will call.”

Dean nods but he can’t lift his gaze from his shoes. He should’ve known that all it would take to fuck things up would be one date with him in the real world. The simulation probably made Cas like him or something. 

Cas sighs and nudges Dean’s foot with his own, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you or lead you on or...” 

Dean forces a smile. “You didn’t. And I get it. I guess hoping we could just rekindle things was stupid.” Someone bangs at the door, the sound reverberating through Dean’s back. It’s as good a sign as any to duck out before he loses the remaining threads of his composure. “Just uh, call or text me whenever you’re ready.” 

Cas doesn’t look happy but he nods. “Alright, I will.”

Dean ignores the dirty look from the guy who’s been hammering on the door and weaves his way through the crowd, ready to put some distance between him and this clusterfuck of a night. He glances once more behind him, but Cas is already sitting at the bar, chatting with the bartender. It doesn’t look like Dean will be missed.

He keeps his cool until he makes it back to his shitty motel. Then he gives in to his frustration and takes it out on the room, knocking the alarm clock and lamp off the end table and upturning the single chair. Two whiskeys later he's ready to talk, so he calls Charlie while he picks up the mess he made. 

“Hey loser, what are you doing calling me while you’re supposed to be on your hot date?”

He opens his mouth and pours out the whole disastrous evening to her. When he says it out loud, it’s easy to see why he scared Cas off. Dean’s never had a problem with oversharing or _feelings_ before — more the opposite, really — but that’s the problem. Cas was the one person that things were different with. Starting from scratch is harder than he thought it would be.

Charlie is mostly quiet throughout his tirade, just offering a few sympathetic words and encouragement to continue. But once he runs out of steam, she steps in.

“Alright first of all, let’s look at the bright side. Something like this was pretty much going to happen no matter what. The two of you are approaching this from such different places. You are a stranger to him, Dean! A really hot, but totally unknown stranger who talks about things like marriage and house hunting on the first date. You have this whole history with him that he doesn’t know. Try to put yourself in his shoes. Getting cold feet was bound to happen. Getting it out of the way now is good! Like he said, he just needs time and then he’ll call.”

“Yeah, if he calls.”

“Well you’re just gonna trust him on that,” she says, yawning. “Are you still spending the night there?”

Dean flops down on the bed. “Yeah. He said he probably wouldn’t call tomorrow, but I’m already here and I already paid for the room so I figure I might as well.”

“Alright, just try not to get your hopes up, okay? Give him time to think. You don’t wanna rush things.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll try. Thanks, Charlie.”

“No problem dude. I’m gonna catch some sleep now. Night!”

“Night.”

Dean considers calling Sam, but he’s pretty sure it’s too late now and he doesn’t want to interrupt any dreams of the infamous Ms. Moore. At least one of them deserves some decent rest.

Although maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all. The one benefit to renting a hotel room last updated in the seventies is that it still has a magic fingers bed. He drops a few quarters in and lays back down, staring at the water spots jiggling on the ceiling. In his excitement over finding Cas he’d kind of forgotten how shitty trying to figure all this out might be. He’s ashamed that he hasn’t really stopped to think about the situation from Cas’ perspective before. He’d thought about how terrible all the lost time must be, but it’s not just the missing memories, it’s the intimate knowledge he has about Cas. When he met Charlie, he was suspicious of her for knowing his name. When he tries to imagine what it would have been like if she’d spouted off even half of the stuff he threw at Cas he rolls over and buries his head under the pillow.

He’s been an idiot. Hopefully Cas will stay true to his word and call so Dean can mend things. And If Cas decides he isn’t worth the hassle, well Dean will survive. Probably. It won’t be pretty and he may drink his way through every liquor store in Kansas, but he’ll survive.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean stays in Wichita until sunset on Sunday then drives home in the dark. Cas doesn’t call.

He gets desperate and drives back to Wichita on Monday, looking for answers, but turns around before even parking. Cas doesn’t call. 

On Tuesday he goes to work in dark sunglasses, feigning a hangover to avoid unwanted questions. Cas doesn’t call.

He drinks too much Wednesday night and has to call in sick on Thursday. Cas doesn’t call.

On Friday, Dean texts Cas. _You lied._

 

 

Saturday is hard. There’s still a Cas shaped hole in his life, and his apartment still feels like it belongs to someone else. There’s nothing that Dean can do about the former right now, but he might as well try tackling the latter. Even if he’s technically a bachelor again that doesn’t mean he has to live like one if he doesn’t want to. 

He’s let the place fall into a pretty disgusting disarray over the last few weeks. Empty bottles litter the floors and counters and a wave of shame rolls over him as he gathers them up and takes them to the curb. He doesn’t want to be his dad. Cas deserves better than that. Dean deserves better than that. He doesn’t think he’s up to any twelve step shit yet, but he makes a promise to himself that if he can’t keep that shit under control he’ll try it. It turns his stomach to even think about it, but it’s better than the alternative. 

Dean clears out his mementos drawer next. ‘Mementos drawer’ — yeah right. It’s more like a haphazard collection of matchbooks, coasters, and old receipts covered in phone numbers. He’s kept just about every phone number given to him over the past fifteen years like they’re some kind of trophies in recognition of his masculinity, but with the memory of a marriage hovering in his thoughts, they just make him feel tired.

He tosses the entire drawer in one go, an odd sense of fulfillment spreading through him as the beer stained napkins and scraps of paper disappear. He gives the place a good old fashioned cleaning next, and a few hours later he’s sweaty and tired but feeling better than he has all week.

Dean collapses on the couch and pulls up Netflix, deciding to give _Thor: Ragnarok_ a try. He’s not really much for superheros, generally preferring characters that rely on their wits and skills rather than powers, but Charlie’s been after him to watch it. He sees what she means. The movie holds his attention better than most Marvel films, being funnier and faster paced than he expects. He also sees Charlie’s point about the eye candy; it’s a bisexual’s dream. With a start, he realizes that he can admit that now. Before he would have pretended his interest was only in Valkyrie and Hela. Now he’s happy to acknowledge that Thor and Loki aren’t bad either. 

A buzzing draws his attention away from Hela conquering Asgard. He checks his phone, expecting it to be Charlie or Sam checking up on him, but he swallows when he sees CAS at the top of his notifications. He pauses the movie and wipes his suddenly sweaty palms on the couch. 

_This is Castiel. Are you free to talk?_

Dean tenses up as he stares at his phone. As hurt as he is right now, the answer will always be yes when it comes to Cas.

_Yeah. Go ahead._

There’s an impossibly long two minutes when there is nothing but silence until the phone rings.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Cas. I was starting to think you weren’t gonna call.” His voice comes out uneven and stretched thin.

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this much time to pass. But it’s been hard. It’s taken me longer to think about than I expected.” 

Dean swallows, unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “That’s understandable. Look, I’m sorry again for last weekend. I came on way too strong.”

“I’m sorry too. I knew you were going into this with certain expectations, but,” Cas sighs and Dean can almost see him squinting up at the ceiling in frustration. “I don’t know how to do a relationship, Dean.”

Dean laughs, “Me either, buddy.”

“I mean it. I’m screwed up, Dean. I’m bitter and depressed and I fuck strangers to try and forget, and sometimes it helps and sometimes it doesn’t, but that’s all I know how to do. I don’t know how to do more with someone than that. I don’t even know where to start.”

Dean nods as he processes Cas’ words. It’s honestly not too far off from how he’s used sex as a coping mechanism himself. The question is if Cas even wants something more. He steels himself for the answer and asks. “Do you think you want to try and find out?”

Dean’s heart thumps so loudly in his chest as he waits for an answer that he wonders if Cas can hear it through the line.

“I’m not sure yet. But I think I’d like to try being friends?” Cas laughs but it’s awkward and forced. “I realized I haven’t made a friend in, uh, a really long time. Everyone I know is from before.”

“Before you enlisted?” There’s a tense silence that immediately has Dean kicking himself.

“Alright. This is part of the bigger problem and I’m not sure what to do about it yet. You can’t just... you can’t keep reminding me that you know every one of my secrets when I don’t even know how old you are.”

“Thirty-three.”

Dean can practically hear Cas rolling his eyes. “Fine, but the point remains. I know that you can’t forget the stuff you know about me, but I need you to at least,” he sighs, “I don’t know, can you pretend you don’t know all this stuff for now? It’s just too hard being reminded that you have this huge store of information about me — about us — but that I remember none of it.”

Dean rubs his hands on his jeans and nods. “I get it. And I’ll try, I’ll try hard, but you gotta realize that I’m gonna screw up sometimes. But I’m gonna try.” 

“That’s all I’m asking. I just want a chance to get to know you too before we take this any further.”

“That works for me.” There’s an awkward silence that Dean searches to fill. “Hey, have you seen Thor: Ragnarok?”

“No. I keep hearing good things though.”

“Yeah, Charlie recommended it. It’s on Netflix and I was thinking about watching it.” Dean licks his lips and says, “We could watch it together if you wanted. No pressure.”

Cas is quiet long enough that Dean is sure he's going to say no, but he surprises him. “Alright, Dean. Let me just pop something in the microwave.”

As fun as the movie was previously, watching it with Cas on the phone is light-years better. Cas has a dry remark for almost everything and it nearly causes Dean to miss a few scenes with how hard he’s laughing. They have to switch to speaker about halfway through so they can charge their phones and Dean finds himself hugging the couch pillow like a teenage girl as he listens to Cas’ rumbling laugh.

It’s one of the best nights he’s had in ages even considering the clusterfuck of the past week. He grows anxious as the movie nears its end; he picks at the fabric of the cushion, trying to think of a way to prolong the night. When the credits roll though, he’s got nothing.

“Thank you for suggesting this, Dean. I wasn’t sure if I’d enjoy it since I haven’t watched the previous Thor movies, but it was still well worth watching.”

Dean grins up at the ceiling, the water spots looking more like comets through his Cas-tinted glasses. “No problem, man. It was much more fun watching it with you. Although I’ve gotta warn you the other Thor movies aren’t as funny.”

“Yeah, the main reason I was interested was because I’ve enjoyed Taika Waititi’s other films.”

“I have no idea who that is.” Dean scrunches his face up and hopes Cas isn’t a secret film snob.

“He was the director. He’s done a few other films I enjoyed.”

Dean latches onto a possible way to prolong the night. “Do they have any of them on Netflix?”

“I don’t know.” The line is silent for a moment as Cas presumably checks. “No it doesn’t look like it. I should go to bed soon anyway.”

The clear regret in Cas’ voice helps ease Dean’s disappointment. “You hitting the farmer’s market in the morning?” It slips out before Dean can think and he holds his breath, hoping he didn’t mess things up again. 

“Yeah, right. Do I seem like the type of guy that can afford organic nut spreads or whatever they sell there?”

It’s a jarring contrast to the enjoyment Cas seemed to get from them in the simulation and it takes Dean a minute to recover. “Yeah, they’re more my brother’s thing. He swears the fruits and veggies aren’t that expensive though.”

Cas snorts. “Yeah, well, I’m also not sure I want to get up early on my day off to find out.”

Dean relaxes, glad that his misstep doesn’t seem to have ruined the night. “Yeah, I feel you.”

“Okay.” Cas sighs and there’s a rustle as he takes Dean off speaker. “I need to get some sleep. Thank you for an enjoyable end to my evening.”

“You too.” Dean cringes as he realizes that didn’t exactly make sense. “I mean thanks for watching it with me.”

Cas laughs softly. “I know what you meant, Dean. Goodnight.”

“Night Cas.”

 

 

The next three weeks blur together as Dean and Cas tentatively explore the confusing space between them. Their messages are stilted and sporadic at first, but within a few days, Dean spends almost every spare moment texting or calling Cas. He texts Cas jokes and funny anecdotes about his customers and Cas sends back drier jokes and pictures of interesting things he sees throughout the day. He digs out his bluetooth headset and talks to Cas while he shops for groceries and while he works on Baby and Cas calls him while he waits for his laundry at the laundromat and during his downtime between split shifts. 

The crew at work teases him relentlessly about it and off the clock Sam and Charlie are almost worse, shaking their heads at him and making heavy-handed comments. He reminds them that he and Cas are testing out just being friends, but he has trouble keeping that in mind himself at times. It’s all he can do to swallow the automatic _Iove you_ that rests on his lips at the end of their calls and he spends a lot of time repeating to himself, _you’re just friends_. It’s a shame his heart doesn’t get the memo. 

It doesn’t help that the boundaries of their relationship — if Dean can even call it that — are unclear. Most of their conversations are pretty casual, talking about books and movies and their days at work, but every so often Cas says something teasing and flirty that leaves Dean unsteady and fumbling, too afraid to respond in kind for fear of messing things up. It’s an exhausting dance of hope and caution and Dean rarely knows which way is up anymore. 

Things get even more complicated when Dean comes out of the shower to find a cryptic text waiting for him. 

_Hey I want to talk to you about something. Let me know when you’re free_

It’s not quite as bad as the dreaded “we need to talk” but it’s still a pretty damn unsettling message. Dean searches his memories of the past two weeks, trying to think if he’s said or done anything to make Cas uncomfortable. He can’t think of anything, and he’s cut his drinking back to a beer a night, so it’s unlikely he made a drunken blunder, but the knot in his stomach grows tighter and tighter as he dries off and throws some clothes on.

He takes a deep breath and briefly considers taking a shot to ease his nerves, but he resists, sending a text to say he’s free before he can overthink it any further.

The phone rings immediately, and Dean isn’t sure if the fact that Cas was obviously waiting for his reply is a positive sign or not. “Cas?”

“Hello, Dean. How was work?” Cas’ voice is nervous and overly bright and Dean can’t deal with the bullshit small talk when something is obviously going on.

“It was fine,” Dean says. “Cut to the chase, Cas. Your text spooked me. What’s on your mind?”

“Well.” The creaking of Cas pacing his floor carries over the line. “The last few weeks have been good. But, I’ve been thinking — ”

The knot in Dean’s stomach migrates to his chest, compressing his ribs and lungs. Things have been good with them lately, or at least he thought so. Instead, he’s getting a Dear John speech and he never even kissed Cas properly. They somehow skipped it during their drunken fumblings at the bar and now he’ll never know how his real lips compare to the ones in the simulation.

“ — and I’d like to try meeting in person again. What do you think? Dean?” 

Dean’s throat is full of bile and he takes a moment to swallow past it. “What?”

“I have Saturday off. I was thinking we could get some coffee, maybe see a movie, but only if you want to.”

“I do! But, um, what changed?” Dean’s half afraid to ask, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I don’t know. I guess I don’t feel like I’m at as much of a disadvantage anymore. I know more about you. We’re friends now.” He pauses and laughs quietly enough that Dean barely catches it. “And I just really want to see you. It would be fun to watch something in person.”

Warm pleasure curls through Dean and he smiles. “Yeah it would be. Do you want to come here this time?” There’s an unhappy sounding exhale on the other end of the line so Dean quickly adds, “Or I can come out again, Baby always appreciates some time on the road.”

“Are you sure? My car’s making this weird clunking noise so I’m trying to stay off the freeways for now.”

Dean huffs at the phone. “I told you to take better care of her. I’ll take a look while I’m there this weekend.”

“You don’t have to, I’m planning on taking it in after I get paid next.”

Dean bites his tongue to keep from offering a loan. “I like cars. Besides it’ll give me a chance to show off for you.”

Cas laughs. “Alright. I’ll go ahead and put in for the shift request then. Did I tell you about the customer that tried to return an empty bottle of wine?”

It isn’t until after their call is over that Dean catches the lie. Cas didn’t actually have the weekend off and was requesting the time specifically to see him. It keeps him smiling for the rest of the night. 


	10. Chapter 10

Saturday finally comes and Dean arrives at the coffee shop twenty minutes early, hoping his nerves will have calmed enough to keep him from looking like a fool when Cas shows up. 

His knee is still bouncing under the table by the time Cas approaches though. He stretches his leg out in front of him to hide it but almost trips a barista walking by. He apologizes and jerks his leg back, jolting the table. Cas lunges and grabs it to keep it from tipping over. Dean closes his eyes and breathes out through his nose, wondering if this is what he gets for mostly skipping the awkward stage with girls.

“Wow. I’m used to being the awkward, socially inept one, so this is a bit of an adjustment.”

Dean’s eyes fly open but Cas is smiling broadly. “Yuck it up, buddy. Don’t tell me you’ve never spilled a cup of coffee on someone or knocked over the gum display at checkout.”

“I have never done either of those things,” Cas says, looking down his nose. When Dean’s eyes narrow he laughs. “But I may have flooded the store with slurpee a time or two and knocked over an entire end cap of chips.”

The warmth in Cas’ smile eases the remaining tension in Dean’s muscles. “It’s really good to see you. How’s it going?”

They fall into a light banter as they wait for their coffees, but descend into silence once they arrive; they both focus on their beverages, stirring long past there being an actual need. 

Cas takes a sip of his coffee and wrinkles his nose. “I think our gas station coffee is better than this.”

Dean tries his and puts it down. “Whoa. You’re right. Or maybe we’re too used to shitty coffee to like the real stuff anymore.” 

“Could be.” Cas licks his lips as he runs a finger around the mug’s edge. 

Another awkward silence falls and when his coffee is barely lukewarm Dean clears his throat. “So. I wanted to say thank you. For giving me another chance.”

Cas meets his eyes and smiles. “Thank you for being patient. I’m still not sure how to handle all this.” He waves his hand vaguely between them. “This one-sided history between us. But if you’re still willing to muddle through this, then I am too.” His smile turns shy. “If the real me hasn’t scared you off yet, then I’m ready to try a relationship. You’re worth the risk.”

Dean ducks his head, biting his lip at the pleasure the comment sends zinging through him. “Good. I mean I feel the same way. I wanna try.” He takes a deep breath. “And I had an idea about all of this. What if we tried to recreate some of the memories?” 

“What do you mean?”

Dean leans forward. “Like, what if we did the same stuff we did in the simulation? What if we went on the same dates, the same trips, the same order. That way it would be like we did share the same memories. I thought it might make things feel more normal for you.”

Cas looks much less excited than he’d hoped. “It isn’t a bad idea considering what I said, but the thing is, I don’t want to recreate our time in Valis.”

The words sting like a slap, and the hurt must show on Dean’s face because Cas holds up a hand in apology. 

“I’m sorry that was blunt and not the full story. Let me explain better. I like you, I really like you, Dean. I told you that before, and I meant it. I can see it working out for us, I can see us being together, and I can see why whatever malfunction the simulation had put us together. We fit.”

Dean figures he should say something but his throat is still too tight. All he manages is a hushed, “Okay.”

“But I need you to want to be with the real me. I need you to want the real us, not some made up fantasy.”

Dean rubs his eyes as he tries to make sense of things. “I don’t understand. I mean, yeah, the environment or whatever was simulated, but it was us. What we had was real, Cas.” 

“No it wasn’t.” Cas groans and pushes a hand back through his hair, leaving it distractingly messy. “Let me approach this a different way. Tell me about our first fight.”

Dean blinks, thrown by the subject change. “Uh, I think it was about flannel.” At Cas’ confused look he laughs. “You told me to stop buying plaid. Said I looked like a lumberjack.”

Cas gives a half-smile. “I can see that. I mean our first real fight though. Like the type you don’t know if you’ll recover from. Where you think the relationship might be ending.”

“Jesus, Cas. I told you, we were good together. We didn’t have those kinds of fights.”

“Any couple that has been together for four years will have had at least one of those fights, Dean.”

Dean opens his mouth to protest, but he can’t. He’s had those fights in every other relationship he’s had, but that doesn’t say much since none of his relationships have lasted anywhere near four years. But he thinks about Benny and Andrea. They’re good together, real solid, but they still fight. Benny still ends up at Dean’s on rare nights that he needs some space. 

He takes another drink of cold coffee. “Alright. So our relationship was easier there. I’ll give you that. But it was still us, Cas.”

Cas shakes his head. “It wasn’t though, not really. I know it seems that way to you. I mean, your life was pretty much the same, right? Still ran your shop, still had your car, still had your hobbies.” He waits for Dean to nod before he continues. “The Cas you’ve described though, that’s not me.”

“Of course it was. So what if the job’s different? It doesn’t —”

“It’s not just the job, Dean. It’s all of it.” Cas lowers his voice. “I’m not some happy bookstore owner who goes to farmers markets on the weekend and buys his dream house with his husband. That’s not me. The real me works at a gas station for minimum wage, spends his weekends smoking weed and watching random documentaries, and can’t even afford to buy name brand peanut butter. What you met was an ideal version of me. It’s who I might want to be, but it’s not who I am now and it’s not fair for me to have to live up to that.”

Cas stops to take a breath, his cheeks rosy and his eyes flashing. Add in the messy hair and the stubble, and he looks nearly irresistible and Dean’s tempted to sneak a picture. He doesn’t have a death wish though, so he coughs and shifts in his seat, redirecting his gaze to his coffee. 

Cas raises his eyebrows and asks, “What, you still don’t agree?”

“No, I think I see what you mean” Dean says, considering. He’d thought his drinking had eased because of meeting Cas but maybe it was because of the simulation. If all you have are good days, it’s going to be easier to skip your vices. “So what do you think we should do about it?”

Cas sinks back into his chair, looking down his nose at Dean. “Well, what if we did the exact opposite of your idea?”

“Huh?”

“What did we do on our dates? After the bar hook up, I mean.”

Dean exhales and rubs at the side of his neck. “I thought you just said you didn’t want to recreate our time in Valis.”

“I don’t. I want to know what to avoid. Instead of recreating the same dates as before why don’t we purposefully do stuff that is new for both of us? Forget the old memories, and just make new ones.”

Dean laughs, not expecting that. “Alright. Well, we met up at the bar a few times, but the first real date was a classic movie festival thing. They were playing all the original Star Wars movies.”

Cas tilts his head back and nods. “Alright. So not a bar date or a movie date. Although I suppose we already hit both of those in a way.” He jolts up and says, “Stay here.”

Cas lopes across the cafe, squeezing between tables adroitly. He squints at a community board on one wall and comes back, holding a piece of paper like a prize.

“What’ve you got there?”

“Dean Winchester, would you like to go out with me?” He sets the flyer on the table and turns it to face Dean. “And paint this lovely picture of two psychedelic fish?”

“What?” The flyer is titled Eat, Drink, and Be Artsy, and invites participants to attend a couple’s painting night at a local bar later that evening. The smiling couple on the flyer are each holding a small painting in one hand and an oversized wine glass in the other. “I don’t know anything about painting, do you?”

“Nope. Which is why I thought it would be a good choice.” Cas shrugs one shoulder and gives Dean a hopeful smile. “It would be something new for both of us.” 

It’s oddly romantic and flattering that Cas is still willing to try after all their missteps. “I would love to learn how to paint disturbing fish with you.” 

Cas’ smile makes the chilly room warmer. “It’s a date.” 

Dean smiles back. “We’ve got an afternoon to kill before this thing starts. Did you still want to watch something? I brought my laptop so we could watch Netflix at my motel.”

Cas narrows his eyes. “Are you already trying to take me home with you? Going to invite me in to ‘Netflix and chill’?”

“Shit, no. I just didn’t want to presume anything. We can watch it over the phone or — ” 

“I’m just fucking with you, Dean.” Cas laughs, low and throaty and Dean’s not the only one to notice. A woman at the table next to them turns and does a double take, giving Cas an appreciative once-over. When she catches Dean looking at her, she flushes and turns back to her pastry. 

“You weren’t this feisty in the sim, Cas. I never know when to take you seriously.”

Cas smiles and says, “Good. I’m glad I can still keep you guessing. Why don’t we watch it at my place? It’s not much, but it’s probably better than the motel.” 

“You’d be surprised, the bed has magic fingers.” Dean wiggles his fingers in example.

Cas widens his eyes comically. “You may take me home tonight after all.” 

 

When they get to Cas’ apartment, Dean stops in the parking lot and looks at Cas’ car. A quick glance under the hood confirms that the knocking noise is from some misfiring spark plugs like he expects and he has the new ones he brought installed in less than twenty minutes. As he wipes his hands clean, he shakes his head at Cas. “You’re a monster.”

“Excuse me?”

“That knocking noise was the least of your problems. When’s the last time you took her in for a tune-up? Or even had the oil changed? You should bring her in for some work before you take her anywhere. I can give you the number of a reliable shop in town.”

Cas sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Alright. I will. Thanks for taking a look, Dean.”

“No problem. And if you want, I can do some of the work on your car myself, I just don’t have the tools with me right now.”

“No, don’t worry about it. Just give me the shop’s number and I’ll set something up later,” Cas says, leading Dean up the cracked steps of his porch.

Cas’ apartment building looks even more dilapidated in the light of day and it only gets worse on the inside. The ancient wallpaper is peeling and torn and cigarette burns dot the mildewy carpet lining the hall. None of it is familiar. It’s a stark reminder that Cas was right. His life is different in ways that Dean shouldn’t have dismissed. 

Cas leads him to the door at the very end of the hall where the light is dim and murky due to the closest bulb being broken. He fiddles with the doorknob a few times before shouldering it open. “It’s not much, but welcome to my home.” 

The apartment itself is a welcome contrast to the hall. Mismatched paper lanterns dot the room and when Cas flips the two light switches they all turn on at once, casting circles of light in various hues. The rest of the furnishings are similarly mismatched, but the space is warm and clean and smells faintly of cinnamon. A steaming crock pot on the counter seems to be the culprit.

Cas follows Dean’s gaze and smiles. “Sit down and make yourself at home. I made apple cider — well to be honest it’s just apple juice heated up with a little cinnamon, but it’s hot if you want some. I also have,” he looks into the refrigerator, “water.” 

“Cider sounds awesome. But you don’t have to get it for me.” It’s weird and uncomfortable to have Cas treating him like a guest. 

“It’s cool. I just hate that whole process of telling someone where the cups are. No not that cabinet, the next, no the other way.”

Dean laughs as he takes the cup from Cas and takes a sip. There’s way too much cinnamon, but he swallows it like a pro and thanks him. 

Cas doesn’t seem to think there’s anything unusual about the taste, drinking half of it in one go. He wipes the wetness off his lips with the back of the hand and Dean turns away, memories of that motion in other circumstances running through his head. He recites Led Zeppelin’s catalogue silently until the images fade. 

When he turns back, Cas is smoothing a joint between his long fingers and asks, “You smoke?”

“No, not really.”

“Good. I’m almost out and I don’t cat sit again for another two weeks.” 

“Cat sit?”

Cas hums an affirmative as he takes his first hit. “I watch my friend Aaron’s cat when he’s out of town. He pays me in weed.” He shrugs at Dean’s confused look and takes another drag, blowing a stream of smoke at the ceiling. “You sure you don’t want a hit? I don’t actually mind.”

Dean stares at the joint warily. It would be nice to dull his nerves but he hasn’t smoked since he was in his twenties. He grabs the joint before Cas can pull it back. It can be another new experience.

He keeps his hit short but he still ends up coughing hard enough to send black spots across his vision. Cas slides closer to him and takes the joint out of his hand, replacing it with his glass. Dean automatically takes a drink then coughs more at the bite of the cinnamon. He pushes it away and rasps, “Thanks.”

“Sorry. I guess you weren’t saying no just to be polite. I didn’t mean to push you.” 

Dean waves off the apology, not trusting his throat enough to speak more until Cas comes back with a cup of water which goes down much smoother. “You didn't. It’s just been a while. Let me try again.”

Cas eyes him with skepticism. “How about we try something easier?” He moves even closer to Dean and gently grasps his jaw, turning Dean’s face towards him. “Remember to inhale.”

Dean realizes what’s happening when Cas takes a deep drag and quickly brings his lips three, two, then barely an inch away from Dean’s. He taps Dean on the jaw lightly and Dean obediently parts his lips. Cool, lemony smoke fills his mouth and lungs but it’s merely an afterthought to the electric closeness of Cas’ lips. When the last wisps of smoke leave Cas’ mouth, Dean’s tempted to close the distance, but before he can get the nerve, Cas leans back and the moment is gone.

“Was that better?” Cas’ asks, raspy and low.

Dean nods. This time he doesn’t feel overwhelmed. Instead, the high comes like an ocean tide lapping at his edges, smoothing both his mental and physical tension away. He exhales long and slow, sinking back into the couch cushions and says, “Yeah, I feel good. Like a marshmallow.”

Cas laughs and each note of it dances down Dean’s spine. “Good. I have a feeling we should watch something that doesn’t take much effort to follow. How do you feel about MasterChef?”

“Cooking shows are my guilty pleasure. Sounds good.” Dean’s warm and floating and would willingly watch paint dry right now.

Time stretches out like saltwater taffy and Dean melts into the couch, his knee pressing into Cas’ thigh pleasantly. They half watch the show and half talk and Cas brings him to near tears with accounts of his own kitchen disasters. As the episodes pass their conversation shifts to their time in the simulation, with Cas tossing out random questions that Dean does his best to answer. 

Dean’s still loose and fuzzy so while they’re waiting for the next episode to start he asks the question that’s been bothering him ever since he first saw Cas busting ass at the gas station. “So what’s the deal with the job and the apartment? The Valis people gave me a pretty decent chunk of change, they must’ve done the same for you.”

Cas sighs and pauses the program and Dean regrets bringing it up, wondering if he’s overstepped his bounds. “I told you my implant malfunctioned but it was a bit more than that. I had some seizures and, well, long story short, they never removed the implant. I'm still negotiating a settlement with them.”

Dean’s brain is stuck on the word seizure, each syllable a cymbal crash in his head. His worst fears hadn’t even come close. “Jesus Cas, are you okay?”.

“I’m fine, Dean, really. Clean bill of health. It’s the type of thing where since the implant isn’t causing me any problems it’s probably safest to leave it in.” He pokes Dean in the leg with the toe of his shoe. “Sorry I didn’t mean to turn things serious.” 

Dean forces himself to smile. “No it’s fine. What do you think you’ll do with the settlement?”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure. Look for a better apartment, I guess. Stop working doubles. What did you do?” 

Dean laughs. “Nothing yet. Gave an employee a raise, but I would've done that anyway. I might expand the shop I guess.” He wants to offer to float Cas whatever money he needs until the settlement comes through, but he knows they aren’t there yet. Instead he winks and says, “Take my boyfriend out on a hot date.” 

He’s not sure if the word boyfriend is too much, but Cas just rolls his eyes. “You’re such a dork. And if we wanna make it to that ‘hot date’ we better get going.”

 

The hostess points them to a room at the back of the bar, but the loud laughter would have been a dead giveaway anyway. It’s immediately apparent that they’re the only same sex couple at the event, and Dean is surprised at how it makes his stomach roll. He remembers that he’s never done this in the real world, never gone out with a guy where it can’t be passed off for anything but what it is — a date. While he isn’t ashamed of Cas or his sexuality, it’s still hard to put himself out there after years of pretending this side of him didn’t exist.

“You okay?” Cas murmurs it into his ear, low and concerned, and just that is enough to put some of Dean’s butterflies at ease.

“Yeah, just shaking off some old baggage.”

Cas’ eyes soften and he smiles. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“Sure we do, how else am I going to learn how to paint ugly fish?” Dean swallows his nerves and grasps Cas’ hand and nobody in the room gasps or glares or sneers or does any of the things that a small, raw wound in the back of Dean’s mind expects. 

Instead the other couple at their table greets them warmly and gives them tips about what to expect once they find out it’s Cas and Dean’s first time. Cas grabs them both a glass of wine and by the time the instructor asks for their attention, all of Dean’s fears have dissipated.

The mood is simple and low stress as the instructor encourages them to follow the directions as closely or as loosely as they want. Cas follows the instructions with single minded determination, recreating every stroke that the instructor demonstrates. Dean gets a little more creative with it, enjoying the feel of the paintbrush in his hand almost as much as a wrench. It’s not a hobby he would have ever considered, but he’d be happy to do this again. 

By the time the two hour class is up, Cas has a painting that is nearly indistinguishable from their instructor’s. Dean’s on the other hand…

“Well, we can just say it’s an interspecies romance,” Cas says, looking at it with his head cocked. “Our version of The Shape of Water.”

Dean makes a face but can’t say much. Somewhere along the way Dean forgot that he was supposed to be painting a fish and it morphed into… something. “Whatever wise guy, get over here so we can take a picture.” 

The instructor takes pictures of each couple and their works and then a group picture of the entire class holding up their finished paintings. Dean struggles to keep a straight face as the rest of the group stares at his painting. Almost every other couple has two googly eyed fish making kissy faces at each other. Cas has a very serious looking angelfish while Dean has some sort of shark monster.

They even exchange details with the other couple from their table, Garth and Bess. All in all, Dean thinks it was one of the best dates he’s had. A little silly, a lot of fun, and with Cas by his side, there’s not much more he can ask for. 

Cas catches the dopey smile on his face and asks, “What are you thinking about?”

“You.” It’s cheesy but the embarrassed yet pleased huff Cas makes is worth it. “I’m just really glad we came.”

Cas shifts his painting to his other hand and entwines their fingers together. “Me too. I think we should come back again next month with Garth and Bess.” 

Dean’s heart does a happy dance at the thought of Cas planning dates that far in the future. “Yeah, that sounds good to me.” Shouldering the door open, so he doesn’t have to let go of Cas’ hand, he steps out into the damp air. “Do you want to grab a drink?” 

Cas exhales heavily. “I’d like to, but I can’t. I told Nora I’d open tomorrow.”

Dean’s spent all day with Cas, but he’s still desperate for more. “What about a hot chocolate to go? We can drink them on the way home.”

Cas hip checks him and says, “Careful, I’ll think you really like me or something.”

Dean can’t hide the affection in his voice when he says, “Or something alright.” 

Dean sticks to his word and orders the drinks to go even though the leather couch in the sitting area looks extremely inviting. While they wait at the counter for their drinks, a burst of frigid air blows the door open and Dean shivers, burrowing into his jacket. Cas steps into his space, tugging Dean’s collar up and laying warm hands on his neck.

“You need a scarf.”

“It doesn’t really go with the look.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “You’d rather be cold?” He removes his hands and smiles. Besides, I think you would look great with a scarf.”

Dean’s embarrassed to find that the small compliment has him blushing. “Alright. Maybe I’ll look for one.” 

Dean drives at a crawl all the way to Cas’ apartment, using the mounting fog as an excuse. They murmur meaningless small talk in hushed voices, the contrast between the howling wind outside and the calm inside adding an air of timelessness to the moment as if they’re in a bubble. 

Before long Dean is pulling up to Cas’ building and the warm glow he’s been filled with all evening fades. As much fun as the day together was, it’s hard to accept that he’s supposed to just drive away now. The emotional toll of doing this long distance could be worse than he thought.

He turns to ask Cas if they can do this again, but the words catch in his throat. The moon is large and full and provides just enough light to send shadows over Cas’ features, showcasing the sharp line of his jaw and generous curve of his lips. He has features fit to rival any classical statue and Dean is amazed again that someone this incredible could want him.

“What?” Cas asks as Dean stares.

“Nothing. Just feeling pretty lucky.” Cas laughs self-consciously and Dean moves on, not wanting to make things too serious again. “I had a great time. Can we do this again?”

Cas nods, turning in his seat to face Dean better. “I work most weekends, but I’m off next Sunday.” 

“Great! And I’ll send you the number for that shop tomorrow.”

“Alright, thanks.” Cas looks at his phone, sighing. “Well I’m opening the store tomorrow so I better go in.”

“I’ll let you get going then.” Dean swallows as Cas’ eyes drop to his mouth. He licks his own lips nervously, wanting to kiss him but unwilling to close the distance after the mess of their last date. “Thanks again, Cas.”

The corner of Cas’ mouth lifts. “You don’t need to thank me Dean, I had a great time too.”

“Right.” Dean exhales, eyes darting to Cas’ mouth. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Good.” Cas leans in and asks, “May I kiss you, Dean?” in a voice so low and rough it sends Dean’s stomach into flips.

Dean licks his lips again, helplessly. “Yes, definitely.”

Cas smiles and cradles Dean’s jaw, holding him steady as he kisses him close mouthed but long and earnest. It’s gentle and tentative in a way their kisses never were before and the sweetness of it fills him with a soft, warm glow. When their lips part it is far too soon for Dean’s taste and he keeps his eyes closed as their breath mingles between them. Cas’ hand is warm and gentle on his face as he rubs his thumb against Dean’s jaw and says, “Drive safe, Dean. I’ll be thinking of you.”

Dean blinks at him slowly, trying to commit the perfect softness of their kiss to memory. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight.”


	11. Chapter 11

Dean floats through the next two weeks, brushing off Frank Deveraux’s latest conspiracy theories and smiling his way through Andy’s explanation of how he accidentally painted a tiger on the side of the shop’s loaner van. He drives out to see Cas whenever their schedules align, and with a series of successful dates under their belt, they now have a long weekend planned, starting with a Wichita Thunder game on Thursday night. He’s feeling nearly invincible when he meets Sam and Charlie at the Roadhouse after work to let them know of his trip. 

Charlie is, unsurprisingly, stoked about the hockey game when he tells her and Sam over dinner. 

“I’m jealous. You chose a good game. They’re playing against the Falconers who beyond being a kick ass team also happen to have Jack Zimmerman, the first openly out player and a dreamboat to boot.”

“Huh really? That’s cool.” Charlie passes him her phone and he whistles at the blue eyed beefcake on the screen. “Wow. I might have to actually get into hockey.”

She snorts as she takes her phone back. “You so have a type.” She wrinkles her nose and looks at him hopefully. “Any chance you want to do a double date? I was already thinking about inviting this girl I’ve been talking to and I’d love to meet Cas.”

A selfish part of Dean wants to make an excuse and say no, just so he doesn’t have to share Cas, but instead he makes himself nod at Charlie. “Sure, that sounds fun. I’ll ask Cas, but I’m sure it’s cool with him.”

“Sweet.” Charlie high fives him across the table. “I think you’ll like her.”

Sam looks at both of them in surprise. “I didn’t even know either of you liked hockey.”

Charlie looks at him unimpressed.“Uh, yeah. All lesbians like hockey.”

Dean shrugs at Sam. “I don’t know if I do yet. This will be my first game. You wanna come check it out too?” If Charlie’s already going there’s no reason not to make it a group thing. 

Sam surprises him by nodding. “I think I will. I have a light caseload this week and I didn’t get a chance to talk to Cas last time.”

The conversation turns to Charlie’s love life and Sam’s lack of one and Dean listens and teases when appropriate. It’s good to get out of his own head and catch up with them but when his phone buzzes with an alert he’s instantly immersed in a battle of willpower as he fights to resist checking it. He nods and smiles along with whatever Charlie is telling him about a new band she discovered trying to ignore the voice in his head reminding him that Cas is probably only on his break for a few minutes more.

He must be more obvious than he thought because Charlie stops talking and rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, just check it. And here I thought Sam was the one with the puppy dog eyes.” 

“Hey!”

Dean ignores both of them as he eagerly checks his messages now that he has Charlie’s permission.

_Hello Dean. I’m on break and thinking of you so wanted to say hi. I hope you had a good day at work. :-)_

Before Dean can respond another message comes through.

_Look how big this duck’s brood is! She walked right by the store earlier. I’m not sure where she was heading but I put some water out for them just in case._

Dean grins at the two slightly fuzzy shots of a mama duck with eleven babies trailing after her. 

“Whatcha smilin’ at over there?” Charlie asks before scrunching up her nose. “Or wait, do I even want to know?”

Dean rolls his eyes and turns the phone to face them. “It’s nothing like that. He found some ducklings.”

Charlie grabs the phone and coos at the picture. “They’re so cute! And there’s so many of them! I don’t envy that mama.” 

Sam shakes his head and snorts a laugh under his breath.

“What, you’re too cool for cute stuff?” Dean asks as he takes back his phone.

“Look who’s talking. I’m just happy for you, Dean. Lately you seem much more, I don’t know, comfortable in your skin I guess.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean scoffs but he understands what Sam means. There was a time he wouldn’t be caught dead passing around his phone so people could see pictures of cute animals, let alone ones his boyfriend sent. It feels like it’s been a long time since he was that person, but for Sam it was much more recent. 

He clears his throat and meets his brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I am. That whole experimental trial thing was fucked up and all, but I’ve gotta say I’m grateful for it. It feels good to just be, uh, me.”

Sam crosses his arms. “Told ya you were compensating before.”

Dean narrows his eyes and leans in, but another buzz of his phone reminds him he still hasn’t responded to Cas. “You just wait a second.”

“I actually need to get going. I’m picking Jessic— Ms. Moore up from the airport soon.” Dean and Charlie exchange a look that has Sam rolling his eyes as he leaves the table, “Yeah, yeah, you can make fun of me later.”

Dean promises he will as he checks his newest message.

_I need to clock back in, but let me know if you are still up when I get off work. Have a nice night_

Dean curses and types out a quick reply. _Sorry! At dinner with Sam and Charlie. You still on break? Time for a call?_

The minute he presses send he’s hit by a wave of embarrassment. How fucking needy can he sound? The phone rings before he finishes berating himself.

“Cas?”

“Hello, Dean.” 

It’s amazing how just those two words are enough to send warm waves of comfort through him. “Sorry I missed your text. When’s your break over?”

Charlie throws a ten on the table as she gets up with a wave and a whispered, “Bye!”

He mouths an apology, but doesn’t stop her. He can always meet up with her later. Cas is more difficult to pin down with his multitude of shifts.

“Three minutes ago, but the store’s empty right now so I thought I’d say hi.”

Dean bites his lip and smiles into the phone. “Awesome. Hey, is it alright if Charlie and Sam come to the game?” 

“Yes, of course, Dean. I’m glad I’ll get to meet them.” The door chimes in the background and Cas sighs. “ I have to go now though. I’m off at eleven, will you be up?”

“Yeah, just call or text when you get home. See ya, Cas.”

When Dean looks up from the call Charlie is standing there giving him the sappiest look he’s ever seen. He can feel his skin flushing red and his, “What?” comes out gruffer than he intended.

“Nothing! I just forgot my hat.” She reaches to the far side of the booth and snags the rainbow beanie. “But, since I did see that, I have to say that you two are the grossest, most ridiculous couple I have ever met. Do you always talk on his breaks?”

Dean ducks his head, feeling both embarrassed and warm. “Nah, that was the first time. We normally just talk before and after his shifts. Oh, and he said double dating is cool.” Charlie lunges into the booth and hugs him, and he nearly knocks over his water. “Whoa, what was that for?” 

“I’m just happy for you! You were so worried you wouldn’t find him when we first talked and now here you are making googly eyes at your phone because he called you on his break.” She sighs and shakes her head melodramatically. “What can I say? I love a good romance. I have a secret stack of harlequins in my dresser.”

Dean leans in and winks at her, “Me too.”

 

Dean’s plans for a long weekend go out the window when Cas is forced to pick up a Friday shift. The game is still on though, so Dean carpools with Sam, tapping the door as he drives, nervous energy simmering. Sam and Cas are the two most important people in his life, and while he’s pretty sure they will get along great, it’s still nerve wracking. 

He sends Sam inside to look for Charlie and waits for Cas outside the stadium, wanting a private moment with him before joining the others. He grins as he watches Cas stride up the steps, long legs taking the stairs two at a time. 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas’ cheeks are flushed from the cold as he hands a small gift bag to Dean, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“Hello yourself. What's this?” 

“Open it and find out.”

Dean acquiesces and pulls out a soft, chunky knit scarf in shades of green. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, “You got me a scarf?”

“I _made_ you a scarf.”

“No kidding.” Dean runs the fabric through his fingers, grinning. “I didn’t even know you could knit.”

Cas’ lips twist into a half-smile. “I learned after my discharge. It was something to keep busy with while I got used to life stateside again. I haven’t made anything in a while but,” he reaches over and tugs at Dean’s thin jacket, “I had a feeling you might need the extra warmth.”

Dean’s pretty sure if he was in a cartoon there would be hearts floating over his head right now. “Thanks, Cas.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal but a pleased smile flickers over his lips. “It’s a simple pattern.”

Dean shakes his head, laughing. “You’re really something.”

When they walk into the rink, Cas is proven right and Dean adjusts his scarf to cover his neck more fully as he scans the area for Charlie and her girlfriend.

Cas reaches over and helps tuck it into the collar of his jacket, smiling smugly. “I told you it was a good idea.”

“Oh you guys are just gross,” Charlie says from somewhere behind Dean.

“Hey! Fancy meeting you — What the fuck is she doing here?” His pleasure at seeing Charlie quickly turns to anger when he sees who she brought.

“Oh look, it’s the two Sleeping Beauties.” The dark-haired nurse from Proxima smirks at them from Charlie’s side.

Introductions dissolve into suspicions and accusations before mellowing out after Charlie explains that Meg is helping her get some files she needs to shut down the trials. Dean’s still not sure he trusts Meg, but by the time they find their seats he has to admit she’s darkly funny. Cas and Sam get along like a house on fire which pleases Dean but doesn’t surprise him. 

They both seem to collect useless trivia like other people collect coins and Dean hides a smile as he watches them, wondering if he’s lost his boyfriend to his brother for the night. 

The stadium is loud and excited, shouts and stomps ringing out after every call, and Cas and Dean both give in to the energy, grinning and hollering along with the rest of the crowd. Charlie’s the loudest of them all though, whistling and stamping her feet whenever Zimmerman makes a play. 

Halfway through the second period Charlie elbows him and Dean looks up to see the kiss cam silhouette zeroing in on Cas and him with a flickering pink heart frame. He looks at Cas uncertainly, not wanting to put him on the spot, but Cas laughs and reels him in by his scarf, planting a firm kiss on his mouth that softens just enough at the end to leave Dean's insides all melty.

Cheers erupt around them and as Dean pulls back, he's treated to the sight of his own dazed smile reflected back larger than life across on the jumbotron. A pink flush steals over his cheeks and Dean ducks his head before he can embarrass himself further. 

Still, it leaves him feeling exposed and vulnerable and Dean instinctively turns to Cas to apologise, but the words die on his lips. Cas is laughing, pleased and carefree, the corners of his eyes crinkling warmly as the older couple behind them whistles and claps him on the shoulder. 

Attention is soon draw away from them, however, when the camera zeroes in on the next couple and the man drops to a knee. His companion immediately screams _Yes_ as she jumps up and down while the crowd goes wild around them. 

Cas claps with the rest of the crowd but leans in and says, “I hate public proposals. They give me second hand embarrassment.”

Dean pretends to shudder. “Yeah and talk about cheesy.” 

“I’m going to grab a drink before the game starts back up, want anything?” Cas asks, standing and stretching.

“Nah, I’m good.” Dean watches Cas pick his way through the crowd until he vanishes from sight. When he looks to his left and Charlie catches his gaze, looking more pleased than she has a right to. “What?”

“Nothing! I’m just having fun! And it looks like Cas is having a great time too. I told you not to worry.”

“Yeah. Tonight is going pretty well, huh?” Dean agrees.

Cas chooses that moment to return and when he sees Dean looking at him a large gummy grin spreads across his face. An answering grin soon covers his own face and Charlie pinches him on the arm muttering, “gross.”

They grab dinner after the game, and Cas and Sam both spend half of it looking up various hockey related facts and reading off their phones to each other and basically just making Dean fall in love with Cas all over again. They rarely saw Sam in the simulation, a fact that should have seemed more strange than it did, so seeing them getting along so well together leaves him feeling relieved and happy. 

It’s late by the time dessert arrives, and Cas soon excuses himself, Dean following him out to the parking lot.

“Sorry our weekend plans didn’t work out,” Cas says.

“It’s okay. And actually,” Dean takes a breath hoping he doesn’t sound clingy, “what if I came back on Saturday? It’s not that far and we’re both off on Saturday and Sunday still.”

Cas frowns. “I’d like that, but I feel bad with all the gas you’re spending. Maybe I can visit you this time.”

“That works even better. I can introduce you to the guys at the shop.” 

Cas shakes his head, grinning. “I’m afraid to find out what they’ve heard. Fine. You’ve twisted my arm. I’ll come see you this weekend.”

“Great! It’s another date.” The jingle of the diner’s door and approaching footsteps announce Sam’s arrival. Dean leans over and kisses Cas, keeping it fairly short since his brother is now hovering a few feet behind him. 

“Text me when you get home.” Cas pecks him on the corner of his mouth and then takes a step towards Sam. “It was wonderful to spend time with you, Sam. I’d love to borrow some of those books we spoke about.”

“Likewise, Cas! You should definitely come visit soon.”

Cas exchanges a smile with Dean. “I’ll actually be in Lawrence on Saturday. So I’ll see you then. Have a safe trip!” He waves once more before starting his car, only to have it immediately die on him. He turns the engine over a few times, resulting in an awful grinding noise, until Dean rushes over, hands held up in a plea for him to stop. 

Cas gives up and steps out of the car. “Don’t say anything.”

Dean pops open the hood and groans. “You never took her in.”

“I was going to,” Cas says, petulantly. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Dean blinks innocently. “Like what? It’s not like I warned you about this or anything.” He turns to Sam. “Hey, do you want to see if Charlie can give you a ride? I’m gonna do some troubleshooting.”

“Yeah, no problem. Are you sure you don’t need a hand?”

Dean smiles and slaps him on the shoulder. “Nah, I’m good. See ya, Sammy.”

Dean grabs his toolbox from the trunk and tunes out as Cas and Sam launch into another round of goodbyes. He spends some time checking all the basics, but the engine is filthy and the night is dark so it’s hard to see exactly what’s going on. After a half hour of fiddling, Cas nudges him.

“My boss has AAA. I bet she’d let me use it. Why don’t we just leave it here and I’ll have them tow it home tomorrow.”

It makes sense, but Dean hesitates. “What about work in the morning?”

Cas shrugs. “I’ll take the bus.”

Dean gives in, figuring Cas knows best. “If that’s what you wanna do. I’ll take another look at it this weekend.” He knows it’s late but he still can’t help but ask, “Hot chocolate?”

Cas bites his lip and nods. “To go.”

“Perfect.” Dean grins as they climb into his car and head to the cafe. Maybe hot chocolate at the end of their dates can be a new tradition for them. It’s not something they did in Valis and the fact that they have already begun to build something new together strengthens the hopes he has for them.

The cafe is deserted except for them, the lights already turned low in anticipation of closing. They sit close on the loveseat while they wait, thigh pressed to thigh, and the soft music playing in the background seems cozy rather than saccharin for once. Cas is clearly tired and says little as they wait, but he also leans his head on Dean’s shoulder and that says plenty.

They sip their drinks in the cafe, lingering despite Cas’ earlier protests of it being too late. Neither of them are quite ready to call it a night. 

He leaves the engine idling at first, but when Cas makes no move to leave he turns it off. 

“Sorry.” Cas undoes his seatbelt and leans his head against the door, eyes dark and soft beneath his lashes. “I was just reminding myself that it would be a terrible idea to invite you in.” 

Dean’s heart stutters even though it’s the exact opposite of an invitation. “Terrible, huh?” 

Cas nods. “Yes, terrible. I have to be up in five hours and I have a feeling that if I invite you in now I’ll find myself not getting any sleep at all.”

Dean swallows, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. After the disaster at the bar last time, he’s been careful to take things much, much slower, only engaging whenever Cas initiates. But suddenly that doesn’t seem as important as before. “Well, there’s always tomorrow.”

Cas laughs low and intimate and scoots closer, dragging the pad of his thumb across the dampness on Dean’s mouth. “I didn’t say I had to go in right this second.” 

Dean’s inhibitions take wing and he slides his hands into Cas’ hair like he’s been imagining all night. It’s even softer than he remembered, the strands catching in his fingers as he maneuvers Cas just so. 

The kiss starts light and playful, as Dean relearns the shape and feel of Cas’ mouth, the sharp bow of his top lip, the plushness of the bottom, the soft hesitancy of his kiss. Before he knows what he’s doing he’s pulling Cas halfway onto his lap and tugging his lower lip between his own, tasting and teasing and wishing he could get even closer.

Cas gives back as good as he gets, cradling Dean’s face between his palms as he deepens the kiss, stubble scratching Dean’s cheeks. He shoves his leg further over Dean’s lap and Dean latches onto it, trying to bring him closer. Cas tosses his head back to gasp for air and Dean lunges for his neck, running his lips and tongue over his throbbing pulse. Cas groans and shifts further backward and — _BEEP_. 

Dean bursts into helpless laughter as Cas curses and fumbles to get his elbow off the Impala’s horn. It can’t take more than a few seconds but it feels like an eternity in the otherwise silent night. Cas sighs and gives Dean one last kiss before moving back to the passenger side of the car. 

“I should be getting in anyway. Now that I’ve woken all my neighbors.” Cas looks thoroughly debauched, hair mussed, lips swollen, and shirt askew. It suits him.

They lose themselves in another messy kiss as they say their goodbyes, until Cas finally pulls away and throws himself out the door laughing, waving to a neighbor watching them from behind her curtains as he runs into his building.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ahoy! Non-penetrative sex so no top/bottom stuff but if you want to skip it you may want to stop reading when Cas asks Dean about their sex life near the end of the chapter

On Saturday morning Dean wakes hours before his alarm, feeling rested and ready for the day. He putters around his kitchen for an hour or so before leaving, but still arrives while people are just finishing their morning commute. Cas told him to text whenever he got to town, but he’s pretty sure this is a bit earlier than Cas expected.

He drives around town aimlessly for five, then ten minutes, as he wrestles with what he should do. If he wants to take a look at Cas’ car today he can’t let it get too late. He pulls into a bakery and texts Cas, letting him know that he’s arrived but that he can kill some time if Cas isn’t up yet. He orders a coffee and nurses it, scrolling the news on his phone while he waits. Cas messages him right as he’s about to order breakfast. It’s brief.

_Come on over. Bring coffee._

The bakery’s doughnuts are still hot and fresh so he grabs a box but regrets his choice as he struggles to buzz into Cas’ building without upending the box or the coffees. Luckily, an elderly woman steps outside to smoke and lets him in right as one cup is tilting precariously. When the door shuts behind him he’s thrust into murky gloom; even more of the hallway lights appear to have burned out. Dean sidesteps a wet stain he doesn’t want to think about and wonders again if there’s any way for him to float Cas some money for a nicer place without crossing the nebulous boundaries of their relationship. 

He lightly raps on Cas’ door with the knuckles of the hand holding one of the coffee cups, hoping it’s loud enough for Cas to hear. As footsteps approach he wishes he’d thought to check the rearview mirror before getting out, hopefully he doesn’t have toothpaste on his cheek or anything.

Cas opens the door and steps back silently, hair greasy and sticking every which way, eyes squinting even against the meager light, and face covered in fresh stubble. He looks grumpy and tired and it takes a massive amount of willpower for Dean to resist kissing him right then and there. 

“Morning, sunshine. I brought doughnuts.”

Cas ignores him and takes one of the coffees from his hands, eyes closing as he takes a drink. Once he’s done his eyes seem to open a little wider and he offers Dean a tired smile.

“Hello, Dean.” His voice is scratchy and rough with sleep and it sends a sharp pang of nostalgia through Dean as he remembers waking up to that voice daily.

“Hey, Cas. Sorry I’m early.” He follows Cas to the tiny kitchen and sets the doughnuts on the counter, pulling out a maple bacon one for himself.

Cas grunts but doesn’t say anything, squinting into his coffee as if it’s the only thing in the room. Dean takes no offense, well accustomed to the fun of being married to someone who isn’t a morning person. Once Cas has finished about half his cup, Dean pulls a sugar doughnut out of the box and passes it over.

“Thank you, Dean.” His voice is slowly approaching normal levels of gravel but it’s still rough enough to bring a smile to Dean’s face. Sleepy morning Cas is something he’s missed. 

“No problem. Figured I owed you for showing up early.” Dean drains the last of his coffee and tosses it into the trash, throwing his arms up in victory when it bounces off the rim but goes in.

Cas smiles faintly as he chews his doughnut, sugar dusting him from lips to chest. “It’s fine. I’m glad to get some extra time with you.” 

It’s crazy how the simplest sentiment from Cas can set Dean’s whole body aglow. He busies himself wiping the crumbs off his shirt so Cas can’t see the dumbass smile he’s helpless to hide. Once his face is under control he asks, “Car still not running?”

Cas sets his coffee down and licks sugar off his lips. “Nope. I had them tow it to the far side of the lot so you’d have room to work on it.”

“Perfect.” Cas yawns and Dean winces, guilt for his early arrival prickling at him. “Sorry again for getting here early. I figured I’d get the car out of the way early so we can still go on a date later on.”

Cas waves him off. “I told you, it’s fine. Do you mind if I take a shower though?”

“Not at all. I’ll just poke around your Hulu and see what they’ve got.”

Cas snags another doughnut from the box and squeezes Dean’s shoulder as he walks by. “Cool. Why don’t you think about what you want to do tonight too?”

Dean puts on a Doctor Sexy rerun but he can’t concentrate, with the faint sound of the shower in the background it’s impossible. He turns up the volume again but it’s no use. He knows Cas is naked on the other side of the wall and what’s more, he knows exactly what Cas looks like naked and what he’s probably doing right now.

Memories play out unbidden — Cas swaying under the showerhead with his eyes closed as the water soaks his thick hair and runs down his neck. Cas leaning back into Dean bonelessly as Dean massages shampoo into his hair. The strong breadth of Cas’ thighs as suds run over them. The way he likes to back Dean up against the wall and lick at the water that collects in the shallows of his collarbones. The way his cock swells when Dean slides a soapy hand down to tease him.

Dean snaps his eyes back open and focuses on the TV, arousal and guilt warring for dominance. He doesn’t feel right fantasizing about Cas while their relationship is still so fragile, but it’s hard to ignore the years worth of memories that are tickling his mind. No matter how hard he tries to concentrate on the drama on the screen, images of Cas soapy and wet continually interfere.

By the time the water shuts off Dean’s pants are uncomfortably tight despite his best efforts to distract himself. He hurriedly pulls out the big guns, closes his eyes, and imagines finding Baby keyed after work with her tires slashed. It does nothing for his guilt, but the arousal fades enough for him to shift into a more comfortable position before Cas sees him.

It’s all for naught though when Cas walks out of the bathroom clad in nothing but a low slung towel. He’s tan and wet and gorgeous and not even thinking of Baby being parted out for scrap metal is enough to counteract the sight before him. Dean swallows and tries not to wince when his, “Hey,” comes out husky.

“Did you decide what you wanted to do later?” Cas asks as he leans over from behind the couch, hand resting on the back of Dean’s neck with his bare chest close enough that Dean could lick the pebbled point of his nipple if he tried. 

Dean is dizzy with Cas’ closeness, his nose full of the citrus scent of Cas’ soap and his skin tingling where they touch. Silences stretches out and Dean drags his eyes back to the screen, remembering that Cas asked him a question. “Uh, no.” 

“Okay.” Cas shoots a puzzled frown at him for his vague answer but straightens up and takes a step back, taking the warmth and soapy scent of his skin with him. 

A postcard in Cas’ pile of junk mail catches Dean’s eye and he holds it up. “What about renting a sailboat at the lake?”

Cas takes the postcard from him once again putting his bare skin within tasting distance. He cocks his head as he looks at the collage of boating images. “I’ve never been on a boat before.”

Dean smiles, keeping his eyes on Cas’ face and not on the freckle above his right nipple. “Me either, it’ll be another new adventure.”

“Alright, I’m in. Let me get dressed and I’ll take you to the car.” Cas runs his fingers through Dean’s hair as he walks away, towel barely covering his remarkable ass.

Dean drops his head between his knees once Cas closes the bedroom door behind him. He’d thought finding Cas would put an end to the ache of longing living in his gut ever since he left Valis. Instead it hurts almost worse at times. He’s waiting for Cas to take the first step, not wanting to push when Cas already knows how he feels, but having Cas here but still distant is a special kind of pain. 

Dean pushes the ache down for now, and turns his attention back to the TV, watching the episode without seeing it, the muffled sounds of Cas getting ready vying for his attention. He wonders if the tight pair of black jeans that Cas sometimes wore in Valis have a real-world counterpart.

Cas walks back in, regrettably in loose levis, and sinks down next to him, knee pressing into Dean’s thigh as he folds his legs underneath him. He grabs the remote and turns the volume up, saying, “Ooh I like this episode.”

Dean smiles but doesn’t say anything, just enjoying the closeness.

A few minutes later Cas jostles Dean and says, “You seem distracted, everything okay?”

Cas’ hair is still damp and curling at the edges and Dean tucks his hands under his knees to remove the temptation to touch it. “Yeah, just feeling a bit out of sorts.”

Cas frowns and peers into Dean’s eyes. “You do know that you are under no obligation to fix my car, right? We don’t have to go to the lake either.”

“No, I’m fine really.” He’s not sure if he can withstand an entire afternoon with Cas pressed to his side and little to distract him with. “Just a lot on my mind.”

“Well if you want to talk about anything, you can,” Cas says, squeezing Dean’s knee gently. 

For a moment, Dean is tempted. He imagines letting it all pour out. _It’s just that every time you are near me I remember what your hair smells like after the rain. The feeling of your hand on my knee. The way your eyes soften when you tell me you love me. What your body looks like when it’s twisting beneath mine._

He stays silent but some of his struggle must show in his eyes because Cas turns into him and laces their fingers together softly. “Thank you for being patient, I know this must be hard.”

Just hearing Cas acknowledge that is enough to dampen some of the maelstrom inside him. “It’s alright, but let me know if I push too hard or start suffocating you.”

Cas laughs and strokes his thumb along the back of Dean’s hand. “You haven’t been pushing at all. I’m the one who’s starting to feel needy with the way I look forward to our time together.”

That brings a smile to Dean’s face and he shifts until he can face Cas more fully. “Good. You can be as needy as you want with me.”

Cas shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips. “So you say now. Let’s see what you say a few years from now.”

It’s the first time Cas has talked about the future in such terms and Dean has to concentrate to keep from vibrating with the intensity of the giddiness that washes over him. As soon as the episode ends he jumps up, needing to move. “C’mon, let me see what I can do with that poor car of yours.”

It’s unseasonably warm for November and after an hour of work Dean strips off his shirt, using it to mop up the sweat gathering on him instead. The engine is a filthy mess and and before long Dean is covered in dirt and grime. He slides back out to grab a new rag and can’t help but notice the way Cas’ eyes slides down his body. He stretches, making a bit of a show of it as he brings his arms up, then over, then behind his back, knowing that it shows off muscle formed from years of labor. 

It must be too obvious of a show; Cas’ eyes slip from lust filled to amused so Dean pulls out all the stops, jutting out his hip as he drags the damp t-shirt down his chest. “See anything you like?” he asks in a gravelly voice.

Cas smiles and inclines his head. “My hot boyfriend is fixing my car for me. What’s not to like?” He uncaps a beer and hands it to Dean.

Dean takes it and nods his thanks, drinking almost half of it down in one go. “Give me another hour or two and then we’ll see how she runs.”

Cas frowns. “Are you sure? I can just bring it in somewhere tomorrow.”

“Nah. What’s the point in dating a mechanic if you don’t take advantage of it? Besides, you know you wanna see me getting all dirty and sweaty some more.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

“Which part?” 

Cas doesn’t answer, but he rakes his eyes over Dean nice and slow as he takes a sip of beer. 

Dean blushes despite himself and clears his throat. “I’ve gotta get a few things out of my trunk. Just a minute.” He passes his beer to Cas, shivering when Cas’ damp fingers come into contact with his.

He feels Cas’ eyes on him as he rummages in the trunk and counts it as a miracle when he makes it back over to Cas’ car without tripping or dropping anything under the scrutiny. He sets his tools down, trying not to be too obvious as he watches the movement of Cas’ throat as he swallows his beer. The guy’s jawline should be illegal, and the way the sunlight catches the sweat glimmering on it is just unfair. He drags his eyes away and finishes his own beer, rolling his shoulders before sliding back under the car and getting to work. 

Cas makes a decent assistant. He doesn’t know the names of much of anything but he’s good at figuring out what Dean needs all the same. He pulls a joint out from somewhere and smokes it lazily, keeping up a steady background of chatter as Dean works, expounding on everything from the ethics of cloning to the reproductive organs of kangaroo (which Dean would have rather remained ignorant of). Dean doesn’t bother tracking with most of it, just letting the low buzz of Cas’ voice soothe him as he works.

The work passes quickly and before long he’s wiping his hands clean and giving Cas a thumbs up. “That will take care of the clunking noise but you’ve really gotta take better care of her.”

Cas gives him a sly grin. “I thought you said my mechanic boyfriend would take care of that now.” 

Dean tosses the dirty rag at Cas who catches it and stuffs it in his back pocket. 

“C’mon,” Cas grins. “Let’s get inside before you burn.”

The air in Cas’ apartment is dry and cool and instantly dries the sweat on Dean’s skin to an uncomfortable film. He barely looks at the shower before Cas hands him a towel and a fresh beer with a smile. Dean takes his time, letting the water sooth his muscles and enjoying the way the soap and shampoo make the air smell like Cas. 

Dean’s stomach rumbles as he gets dressed so he and Cas peek in the fridge but it’s as bad as what Dean was used to as a kid. Some mustard, an almost empty carton of milk, and a jar of jelly. Not even Dean can scrounge up a meal out of that. 

The lake is the perfect setting for a miniature picnic though, so they stop at the grocery store, picking up some simple sandwich fixings. The sun is high in the sky by the time they leave and when they pull into the park, the visitor’s booth is unmanned so Dean settles for shoving a five into the donation jar and driving through.

The dirt lot by the lake is suspiciously empty and Dean’s hopes drop as they approach another vacant booth. A sign resting in the window proclaims that the new winter hours are now in effect and the boat rentals end at 5pm. Dean kicks at the dirt ineffectually, not realizing how much he was looking forward to the date until it was no longer an option.

Cas seems less concerned, shrugging a shoulder and peering around the deserted park. “We can still have dinner here,” he says, pointing to a picnic table a few yards away overlooking the water. “We can just do the boat ride another weekend.”

It’s a perfectly reasonable suggestion, but Dean is distracted the entire time they are eating, wondering if there is any way to salvage the evening. The weather is unusually warm and perfect for a boat ride this weekend but it’s likely to be too cold if they wait. He brushes the crumbs off is hands and jumps up. He isn’t ready to give up yet. If Cas wants a boat ride, he’s going to get a boat ride.

“Let me take a look around.” He winks at Cas and walks back to the equipment shed, not sure what he’s looking for until he sees a grimy window with a broken latch. He grins and rubs his hands. That’ll do just fine. The sill is caked shut with grime and paint, but a few seconds with a pocket knife and he’s able to shove the window up in creaky jerks. 

“What are you doing?” Cas’ voice is right in his ear and makes him jump.

“Jesus. Remind me to get you a bell.” Dean hoists the window as far as it will go and flashes a cheeky grin at Cas. “I am getting us a boat.”

“What? Dean, why don’t we just go back to my place?”

Dean climbs in, snagging his flannel on a nail, but otherwise unharmed. “No way, I’m gonna make this date happen no matter what.”

“Prison isn’t my idea of a date, Dean!”

Dean ignores Cas and unlocks the shed door from the inside, popping it open with a grin and a, “Tada!” 

Cas is not impressed. “So what, you are going to steal us a couple of life jackets? I’m pretty sure they don’t store sailboats in a shed.”

Dean doesn’t answer, putting all his energy into dragging his find out of the shed. “She may not be a sailboat, but she’ll float.”

“What even is that?” Cas asks, walking around it.

“Haven’t you ever seen a paddle boat? Or maybe it’s called a pedal boat. I don’t know, but it looks fun, right?” Dean asks, giving Cas a hopeful smile.

Cas laughs and shakes his head. “Fine. I’m game. If we get arrested though, you can pay my bail.”

“Deal.” Dean tosses their basket of leftovers into the boat and pushes it down to the water’s edge. It’s not the romantic boat ride he was imagining, but it’s him and Cas so that makes it romantic in its own way. 

Cas climbs in and Dean realizes he’s going to have to get wet in order to get the boat into the water. He takes off his shoes and rolls up his jeans, cursing at the icy water.

“You okay, Dean?”

“Just peachy,” Dean grits out as his feet go numb. A solid push though and the boat is moving so he jumps in, splashing Cas in the process.

“Christ, that’s cold.” Cas complains as he tries to move away from Dean’s dripping cuffs. 

Dean apologizes and for a few wonderful moments they float on the water exactly as he imagined. Then he looks down and freezes, concerned by the water in the bottom of the boat. It seems like too much to have come in from just his splash. And it seems to be increasing.

Cas shifts his feet and water sloshes over his shoes. “Dean, did you put the plug in?”

Dean freezes in horror. “What plug?”

The next few minutes are a mad scramble as they frantically pedal back to the shore before the boat sinks. They’re both soaked to the waist by the time they give up and jump out, shoving the boat the final few feet. 

They collapse on the ground shivering, but jump up as a light shines over them and a voice calls, “Who’s down there?” Leaving the food in the boat they jump up and run to the car, chests heaving and wet feet slipping. They make it just in time, and Dean pulls out in a screech of rubber as a security guard comes into the lot, yelling at them as they drive away, nearly bottoming out in their haste. 

Neither of them say anything as they speed away, but once the park fades in the distance they both laugh hysterically until Dean pulls over because he can’t breathe. They laugh like that for a solid ten minutes, each of them setting the other off again whenever it starts to taper off, only stopping when they are shivering too hard to laugh any longer. Luckily it’s a short drive, and with the heater on full blast, they make it back to Cas’ apartment before hypothermia sets in.

When they step inside, Cas tosses him a towel before disappearing into his bedroom. Dean slips into the bathroom and struggles to peel off his clinging jeans. They drop to the floor with a heavy, wet thud, and he doesn’t want to think about the condition of Baby’s seats. His wet shirt and boxers follow and he shivers as he dries himself off briskly with the towel. Once he’s rubbed some feeling back into his legs, he pulls out his duffel bag, only to realize the only thing he has left is a pair of sweatpants. He pulls them on and goes to beg a shirt off of Cas.

He knocks on Cas’ door and is rewarded with the sight of Cas shirtless as well. “Hey can I borrow a shirt?”

Cas’ eyes slide down his chest before he looks back up, wincing. “So, funny story, but today was supposed to be laundry day…”

Dean shakes his head and laughs. “Sure, you just wanted to see me shirtless, no need to hide it.”

Cas’ eyes drop once again, this time in a calculated sweep. “I certainly have no complaints.”

Dean forces himself not to drop his eyes, instead winking and saying, “Likewise.”

Cas laughs and the sexual tension eases back a notch. He steps back, opening his door further. “Want to cuddle under the blankets and watch something?”

Dean’s mouth goes dry as he nods. There is nothing in the world he wants to do more than cuddle with Cas now that he knows it’s an option. 

Cas takes the wet clothes out of Dean’s hands and nods at the bed. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’m going to throw our clothes into the wash.”

Dean stays where he is after Cas leaves, heart racing at the thought of being in Cas’ bed after all this time, even if just to cuddle. When he finally climbs in he stays carefully on his side of the bed, sitting stiffly as he waits for Cas to return. 

When Cas returns, he rolls his eyes at the distance, sliding in and immediately tugging him closer, putting his arm around Dean’s shoulders and pulling them snug. “It’s hard to cuddle when you’re two feet away.”

Dean laughs but it comes out half-strangled. He’s tucked into Cas, touching from shoulder to hip and Cas’ palm is a hot brand on his arm as it rubs gentle circles. He swallows and tries to relax but the closeness after so long has him reeling.

Cas stills his hand and leans over to look in Dean’s eyes. “Is this okay?”

The worry in his voice breaks the spell and Dean melts into Cas’ touch, leaning his head against Cas’ shoulder. “Yes, it’s very okay.”

“Good.” Cas flips through channels, stopping on an episode of Doctor Sexy before settling against Dean again. The episode features a steamy phone sex scene between Dr. Sexy and the medical examiner, and as the medical examiner gasps into the phone, Cas’ touches on Dean’s arm morph into caresses. He leans over, mouth brushing the shell of Dean’s ear and says, “You know, there’s one thing about Valis you’ve never mentioned.”

Dean shivers at the damp heat of Cas’ breath but doesn’t move away. “What’s that?”

“Our sex life.”

Dean swallows and jolts as Dr. Sexy moans on screen. Cas laughs softly and Dean lifts his head to glare at him. “What do you mean?”

Cas shrugs and shifts positions, turning sideways to face him, and trailing a hand up Dean’s chest. “I don’t know. What were our favorite positions? Were we kinky? Did we get bored?”

That last one is enough to startle Dean into answering. “We did _not_ get bored.”

The corner of Cas’ lips turns up in a sly grin. “You sure about that? Four years is a long time.” He walks his fingers down Dean’s chest to his stomach, but stops well above the waist of the sweatpants. 

Dean rolls onto his side, bringing their chests and hips together before repeating, “We did not get bored.”

Cas nudges Dean’s nose with his own, mouths nearly brushing as he says, “I believe you.” 

Before he can respond, Cas closes the distance, kissing Dean breathless and winding his fingers in his hair. When they finally draw back for air, Cas’s eyes are dark and hungry and he sucks his lower lip into his mouth as if savoring the taste of their kiss. 

It lights a fire in Dean and he yanks Cas back to him, running his tongue along the seam of Cas’ mouth, turning the kiss wet and dirty as soon as Cas parts his lips. Cas gives as he good as he gets, slipping his leg between Dean’s thighs and rocking into him, hands sliding down to pull their hips closer together.

Dean tilts his head back and groans and Cas takes advantage, stubble scratching as he nips at Dean’s pulse point. Cas continues his way up Dean’s jaw, ending by sucking the lobe of Dean’s ear into his mouth.

He lets it go with a pop and says, “Tell me about the last time we had sex.”

Dean laughs breathlessly into Cas’ neck. “Are you serious?”

Cas grinds their hips together, drawing a grunt from both of them. “Yeah, c’mon, it’s kind of hot. Tell me about our last time.” 

Dean huffs another laugh and thinks back as Cas returns to kissing his neck. “Well, we messed around right before the program crashed actually.”

Cas rolls Dean onto his back and straddles his hips, running his hands up Dean’s chest. “Tell me more.”

“Well, I told you we had just bought a house,” he grunts as Cas’ fingers graze over Dean’s nipples, bringing them to hard peaks, “and well, you were very grateful.”

Cas laughs and kisses Dean, hard and messy. “Oh was I?” He licks and kisses his way down Dean’s chest, hands stroking and rubbing and generally driving Dean mad. When he gets to Dean’s waist he looks up through his eyelashes and hooks his fingers in the waistband of Dean’s sweats. “And how did I show my appreciation?”

“Just like that,” Dean confirms, enjoying the damp heat of Cas’ mouth against the skin of his stomach for a moment longer before dragging Cas back up and rolling them over, reversing their positions. “Which means that this time it’s my turn.”

Cas looks up at him in surprise but doesn’t resist, relaxing against the bed. “Well I would hate to steal your turn.”

“That’s what I thought.” 

Dean takes his time, hands trembling as he explores the tan skin beneath him. It’s all so new, the heat and the closeness, yet the way his hands fit around Cas’ waist is achingly familiar. Like everything with them it is a mix of contradictions, but the one thing he knows is that Valis could never compare to this. Cas tastes and feels better than he remembers, better than he could have imagined, and every sound he draws from Cas is better than the sweetest music he's ever heard. It’s all more vivid, more intoxicating, just _more_ than anything he experienced before and before long he’s drunk on the closeness of their bodies.

Cas is clearly enjoying himself as well if the litany of praise and compliments pouring out of his mouth can be believed. He squirms when Dean lowers his hands to Cas’ hips and hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Cas’ pajama pants, looking up for confirmation. Cas murmurs yes, yes, now and pushes his pants down himself, cock springing up hard and flushed. A bead of precum forms as Dean watches and he reaches out in a near daze, swiping his thumb through the pearly liquid as Cas groans and bucks up into Dean’s hand. 

A thrum of nervous apprehension fills Dean as he realizes this is technically the first time he’s ever sucked a dick. He licks his lips and steadies the base of Cas’ cock in his hand. The accuracy of the simulation is about to be put to the test. 

He leans down and delicately licks at the underside of Cas’ cock, teasing his tongue along the edge of his foreskin. Cas sighs and winds his hands in Dean's hair, murmuring soft, appreciative nonsense. It gives Dean the courage to open up and take Cas fully into his mouth. It’s everything he hoped for and more; so soft and so hard and so overwhelmingly large in his mouth — and Dean can’t get enough. Cas’ length is scorchingly hot as it fills Dean's mouth, pressing down his tongue and stretching his jaw wide. Dean already aches from the strain of it, but he ignores the pain, opening wider and taking in as much of Cas as he can.

“You are so good. So perfect,” Cas gasps, hands clenching and unclenching in Dean's hair. 

Dean blushes under the praise, covering it up by attempting to swallow Cas down entirely. Deep throating doesn’t come as easily as it did in Valis though and hot tears spring to his eyes as he struggles not to gag at the intrusion. He swallows reflexively as spit pools in his mouth and Cas curses beneath him and jerks up into his mouth. The pending tears overflow down Dean’s cheeks as he backs off to gasp for air. 

Cas moves his hands from Dean’s hair to his face, rubbing the wetness under his eyes away, then tracing a finger around his swollen lips. “You’re gorgeous.”

Dean squirms uncomfortably, embarrassment and pleasure warring in him. He tries to duck his head down but Cas doesn’t let him, holding his face firm. 

“Seriously. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.” He falls back against the pillow and motions to Dean. “Come up here.”

Dean swallows and obeys, moving up the bed until he is laying face to face with Cas. He has an uncontrollable urge to apologize although he’s not sure exactly what for. For not being better, for being too eager, for not being — his anxious thoughts cut off as Cas kisses him slow but determined, a firm coaxing pressure that has Dean melting immediately. 

They kiss until Dean feels lightheaded and drugged and then Cas pulls back far enough to whisper, “Whatever you were worrying about, just stop.” 

“Okay,” Dean says, nodding. His fears seem far away with the haze of lust and intimacy clouding his head. He presses closer, slotting a leg between Cas’ as he turns the kiss wetter and dirtier, but after a moment Cas is pulling back, leaving Dean blinking in confusion.

“These need to go,” Cas says, tugging at Dean’s sweatpants impatiently. 

Dean nods dumbly and tugs them down, kicking until they clear his feet. Cas’ hands are on him instantly, mapping the breadth of his lower back, tickling over his stomach, and smoothing over his hips and ass. He finishes by pulling their hips together, cocks slotting side by side in an almost painful drag. 

Cas pulls lube out from somewhere and slicks them together, and Dean hisses at the coolness. The chill is gone almost as soon as it hits though, and instead Dean is left gasping and shaking at the unbearable intimacy of their cocks sliding as Cas works them in his hand. Dean groans and kisses Cas sloppily until his breath is coming too fast and hard to do more than pant against his mouth. 

Their sweat-slick chests slide together and their legs tangle and for a few glorious minutes it’s as though every part of Dean is entwined with Cas. The salt of Cas’ skin on his tongue, the stuttering of his breath in his ear, the scent of their arousal, and the damp heat of their bodies threatens to send Dean into sensory overload. This moment is so much more than anything he’s experienced before and he hides his face in the curve of Cas’ neck and mouths _I love you_ against his skin. 

Then almost embarrassingly quickly he’s shaking as he comes apart in Cas’ hand, biting down on Cas’ shoulder to keep quiet. Cas whispers praise into his ear throughout, and doesn’t let up with his strokes, the drag turning almost painful as Dean’s cock grows sensitive in the aftermath. But then Cas is following him and Dean is the one murmuring encouragement as Cas comes hot and thick between them. 

They roll apart and Cas grabs Deans hand as they catch their breath. “That was intense.”

Dean swallows. “Yeah.” Intense doesn’t even begin to cover it. Being with Cas again after so long is overwhelming. It’s like every part of him has been turned inside out and left vulnerable. He shivers as the sweat cools on his skin and worry creeps in around the edges of his afterglow.

Then Cas turns to him, eyes soft and sincere, and says, “I’m so glad I met you.” 

And just like that the gloom threatening Dean’s mood is pushed away. He pulls Cas to him and kisses him long and adoring, putting all his unspoken feelings into the kiss. “Yeah. Me too.”

When the mess on their stomachs has congealed to a truly disgusting consistency, Cas heaves himself up and disappears into the bathroom, coming out with a damp towel. He cleans them both up and tosses the towel back in the direction of the bathroom before collapsing onto the bed beside Dean again. 

Dean shivers and Cas pulls the blanket up over them and spooning Dean. “Sorry. Our clothes should be dry soon.” 

“That’s fine. I like this more anyway.” Dean tugs Cas’ arm around him more firmly and snuggles into the blankets. It’s still early and they haven’t eaten dinner yet, but the easy rhythm of Cas’ breathing is like a familiar but forgotten lullaby and before Dean knows it, he drifts off to sleep. 

 

Waking up with Cas is just as Dean remembers. Cas is half octopus, his flexibility on display as his arms and legs snake around Dean, but he’s also half heater and Dean’s skin is damp with sweat where they touch. He wouldn’t change it for the world. He rolls over so he can face Cas and enjoy the way sleep softens his features. Cas sighs and parts his lips as if aware of the attention and Dean can’t help but kiss him.

Cas blinks awake and smiles drowsily, returning the kiss and tangling their legs back together. “Good morning, Dean.”

“Morning, Handsome.” Dean wraps his arms around Cas and returns his smile. His heart is pleasantly full and he wishes he could wake up like this every day. 

“Did you sleep well?” Cas asks, running his foot up Dean’s calf. 

“Like a baby.” Dean can’t stop smiling, the feeling of Cas in his arms too perfectly right. 

“Good, me too.” 

They trade slow lazy kisses and gentle touches, rocking into each other unhurriedly until they both climax with pleased sighs. A leisurely shower with more making out follows and the combination of the hot steam and Cas’ kisses leave Dean feeling drugged. 

Once they’re dressed, they settle on the couch with a late breakfast of leftover doughnuts and coffee and watch a documentary about coral reefs. It’s surprisingly interesting but Dean is soon too distracted by the proximity of Cas to pay attention. Cas starts the movie in his customary cross legged position, but as time passes he slinks farther and farther towards Dean until his feet are braced against the couch arm while his head is resting in Dean’s lap.

The comfortable intimacy of it has Dean’s chest so tight with longing that he is surprised he can breathe. More than the sex, or the road trips, or the romantic getaways, this is what he missed. The simple comfort of having someone who both wants to touch Dean and wants to be touched by him. Someone who makes the nights less lonely and the days more fun. Not someone though, Cas. Only Cas. Always Cas.

The subject of his attention yawns and stretches like a cat just then, heaving himself out of Dean’s lap with a groan. “I guess we should get up soon.”

Dean hums his agreement and gives in to temptation, running a hand through Cas’ dishevelled hair. 

Cas melts back into him, body dropping back to the couch like a puppet with cut strings. “Nevermind. There’s no rush. Let’s stay here instead and you can keep doing that.”

Dean huffs a laugh but continues carding his hand through Cas’ hair, lightly scratching his scalp with his fingernails. “You’re such a fucking cat.”

Cas rubs his face against Dean’s thigh and meows — a ridiculous noise in his gravelly baritone. 

Dean laughs and swats at him, then turns the next suggested documentary on.

They pass the rest of the afternoon that way and while it still hurts when Dean says goodbye, the memory — the _real_ memory — of waking up with Cas keeps Dean smiling all the way home.


	13. Chapter 13

Five dates later, Cas says _I love you_ for the first time.

They’re sitting on Dean’s bed, still flushed from a round of sweaty sex while they listen to Dean’s record collection. When Dean sings along to “Night Moves” Cas groans and rolls his eyes and says, “You’re lucky I love you because if anyone else played this for me it would be a deal breaker.”

Dean stops singing and stares at Cas, breathing gone shallow as he waits to see if Cas realizes what he said. By some amazing stroke of luck, Dean’s managed to keep the words locked up inside himself these past few months, waiting for Cas to say it first. Now that the moment is here though, he can barely breathe let alone reply. He tells himself that it could have accidentally slipped out, but then Cas is leaning in, smiling soft and tender.

“I do, you know. Love you, I mean.” He gently draws Dean in for a kiss. “I’m sorry it’s taken me some time to say it, but I just wanted to be sure, and —” 

Dean cuts him off, cradling Cas’ face between his hands and kissing him for all he’s worth, pouring every ounce of what he’s feeling into the kiss, all the late nights hoping, and days spent dreaming, and the almost immeasurable love that’s threatening to burst out of him right now. When he finally pulls back his throat is tight and his eyes are burning as he says, “I love you too.”

 

Sixteen dates after that, a small storefront, just the right size for a used bookstore, opens up three blocks away from Dean's apartment. They fall silent when they pass it, the car heavy with the weight of questions and answers unsaid, and pointedly avert their eyes. Four dates later, Cas signs the lease, paying six months of rent upfront with an advance from his settlement. The property comes with a tiny studio above the shop, even smaller than the cramped apartment in Wichita, but eventually Cas moves his bed and TV in, leaving most of his items packed and waiting in a storage unit.

Waiting for him, Dean knows. It’s ridiculous that Cas is living in a space barely larger than Dean's closet when Dean has a too-big apartment that’s within walking distance. All Dean has to do is ask. And Dean knows Cas would say yes. Cas has dropped plenty of hints, and if that wasn’t enough, the disappointed expression on Cas’ face when he retreats to his apartment at night reminds Dean of that almost daily. But Dean can’t ask. 

He thinks about it though. Every time he says goodbye to Cas the words hover unspoken, a breath away from being said. But he’s like a baseball player who won’t wash his lucky socks. He’s let Cas take the lead on every step of their relationship—always afraid of pushing too hard, of being too eager—and so far it’s worked. And now he can’t shake that lingering fear that if he makes a move himself, it will ruin what they have. 

Time has made it obvious that he can’t rely on their experience in Valis as a guideline for what to expect with Cas. And as such, Dean’s track record with relationships still stands. Moving in with him has pretty much been the kiss of death for the handful of relationships that have reached that level. And he still can’t help but worry that Cas is going to decide he isn’t worth it. That the fights they still have sometimes—about stuff Dean knows and shouldn’t, or thinks Cas knows but he doesn’t—aren’t worth it. That he’s better off with someone else someone that doesn’t come with a boatload of baggage and a one-sided history. 

Still, he isn’t emotionally constipated enough to miss the fact that his fear is eroding their relationship all on its own. The teasing comments about how nice Cas’ bookshelves would look against Dean’s walls have dried up. Instead, Cas has turned quiet and contemplative and a pit of acid has taken up permanent residence in Dean’s stomach as a result. Dean’s tried to throw himself into the relationship in other ways, helping Cas sort and stock on weekends and bringing him lunch on weekdays, and Cas is always sweet and appreciative, but Dean can tell that something needs to change. 

So two months after Cas moves to Lawrence, when a honeycomb key chain catches Dean’s eye, he takes it as a sign and buys it. That weekend Dean takes Cas out to dinner, ostensibly to celebrate the grand opening of Readful Things, but before dessert arrives Dean places a small gift box on the table, heart galloping.

“What’s this?” Cas asks.

“Something I should have given you a while ago. Open it up.”

Cas squints at him and picks it up gingerly, carefully unwrapping the paper without ripping it. His eyes crinkle with the force of his smile as he pulls out the key chain and attached key. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

Dean licks his lips, nodding. “Yes. If you want to. If you want to keep your place above the shop that’s fine too, but I’d love to wake up to you every morning instead of just on nights we fall asleep on the couch.” He smiles and closes his hand around Cas’ pressing the key between their hands. “I want you to keep this either way though, you’re always welcome where I am.”

Cas leans across the table, ignoring the ketchup bottle that tips over and kisses Dean, the smile stretching across his face making it little more than a press of lips. He squeezes Dean’s hand and says, “Of course I’ll move in with you. It’s about time.”

“Yeah it is,” Dean says, warmth buzzing in his chest as Cas slips the keyring into his pocket. 

Three months later they have their first real fight. It starts over something ridiculous — Cas spills a cup of coffee in Baby’s back seat — but it morphs into a fight about unreasonable expectations and ends with them both tearing off in their respective cars. Dean gets drunk and spends the night at Benny’s, waking up with a head full of cotton and regret. He goes home with his tail between his legs, unsure of what to expect, but Cas immediately pulls him into his arms. 

The make up sex is almost worth it. 

Their next big fight they just go into separate rooms until they cool down. The make up sex is still awesome. 

Before Dean knows it fall arrives again and it’s been nearly a year since he met Cas. Rings in store windows catch his eye when he walks by and while picking up a pie at the bakery he finds himself gazing at the wedding cake displays. He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with Cas, and he’s pretty sure that Cas feels the same way, but he still worries about pushing before he’s ready. So he swallows and turns away from the display, reminding himself that things are good as they are. 

And things are good. Really good. When they receive an email from the Wichita Thunder announcing a special pride night that happens to falls on their one-year anniversary it seems too good to pass up and they excitedly make plans for a full weekend in Wichita, recreating some of their earlier dates. It’s cheesy and romantic but Cas seems just as on board as Dean is and soon the weekend is all they can talk about.

By the time the game arrives, Dean is buzzing with eager energy. He buys them beers and snacks at the stadium without even a grumble, and Cas stops him halfway to their seats, asking “Okay who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?”

Dean frowns at him, shoving one of the beers into Cas’ hands. “What are you talking about?”

“You just dropped almost $30 on two beers and some nachos without calling it highway robbery or a scam.”

Dean laughs and kisses him on the nose. “I’m just really happy.” Cas’ eyes soften but Dean nudges him, not wanting to cause a scene in the middle of the aisle. “C’mon I wanna sit down before it gets too crowded.”

The crowd is even more energetic than usual with the usual team banners and signs being joined by pride flags waving all around them. It’s impossible to not be sucked in by the positive energy and by the end of the first period they are both nearly hoarse from all their cheering and Dean’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. 

He stands up to grab them refills, but Cas tugs him back down saying, “It’s too crowded, let’s just stay here.”

Dean sits back down obediently, draining the last of his beer and cheering as an elderly redhead kisses her wife for all she’s worth on the kiss cam. His cheers turns to laughs when the kiss cam zeros in on him next. “Did you set this up?” He asks, turning to Cas. His mouth drops open and his heart leaps into his throat as Cas drops to a knee.

“The last year has been the wildest, most amazing year of my life. Dean Winchester, will you marry me?” 

The previously rowdy crowd is silent as the entire stadium waits for Dean’s answer. He only keeps them in suspense a moment though, falling to his knees to hug Cas and shout, “Yes!” loud enough for their neighbors to hear it. 

The entire stadium erupts into cheers as they kiss loudly for the camera and then as soon as it moves off of them, Dean punches Cas in the shoulder. “I can’t believe you.”

Cas bites his lip, grinning. “I know, I know, but this was the most ridiculous thing I could think of, so I figured it was a pretty safe bet that this wasn’t how I asked before. Do you forgive me?”

Dean groans but pulls him back into another kiss. “I guess I’m just lucky you didn’t go with a flash mob.”

Cas’ mouth drops open. “I didn’t.”

Dean shrugs. “Who says you were the one who asked last time?”

“Just tell me. I’ve been dying to ask but didn‘t want to give it away.”

Dean squeezes his hand and kisses him gently. “What does it matter? This proposal right now and our future is all I care about.”

Cas’ eyes soften and he leans his head against Dean’s. “Alright. But if you really did propose to me using a flash mob I’m going to kill you.”


	14. Chapter 14

Their engagement party is small but lively, with the usual suspects save for one surprise guest. Jessica shows up with a vice grip on Sam’s arm and marches him over to Dean and Cas, introducing herself and apologizing for how long it has taken for her to meet them. Dean loves her immediately and tells Sam not to waste any more time dragging his feet and to ask her out, only to be told that Jess already asked him out.

After they’ve made their way around the room a few times Dean and Cas split up and Dean makes his way to his brother. Sam gives him a bone-crushing hug and looks at Dean with tears in his eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Dean. Cas is good for you.”

“Yeah, he really is.”

“I mean it. I know things weren’t bad before, I think you were probably content even, but you weren’t happy. You’re happy now.”

Dean looks around him at the trappings of his new life. Plants decorate the windowsills and colorful scarves drape the lamps, photos of them clutter the walls and bookshelves and the entire apartment brims with life. It’s no longer a bachelor pad by any sense of the word, instead feeling like a home. 

Sam’s right. He’s never been happier. Not even in Valis.

By midnight the party has just about fizzled out, so Dean searches for Cas. He finds him curled up with Charlie on the balcony and sneaks up, planning to scare them. 

“I’ve got the files I need and Meg is on board, but it’s up to you. Have you decided what you want to do?” Charlie sounds more serious than Dean would expect and he freezes.

Cas exhales loudly. “I want to go through with it. Not right now though. Give me a few days.”

“Take your time and think about it. Have you said anything to Dean?”

Dean figures it's time to reveal his eavesdropping, so he clears his throat and steps forward. “Hey guys.”

Charlie looks up, wrinkling her nose. “And that’s my queue to leave.” She hugs each of them and says goodbye, closing the door to the apartment behind her.

Dean stands next to Cas, tucking his hands in his pockets. “So, what’s going on?”

“Charlie can get my memories back.” 

Dean blinks, unsure if he heard right. “What?”

“She downloaded my memory files and says she can restore them.” 

“Wow. I thought you said there was no way of getting them back.”

Cas grimaces. “My fault for believing them, I guess.” 

The initial excitement Dean feels quickly turns to worry. “You had a seizure last time.”

“We’d been hooked up continuously for days. This time it’s an acceptable risk.”

“An acceptable risk? They aren’t even real memories, Cas! It isn’t worth it. I thought we agreed to leave the past in the past. Isn’t that the point of everything we’ve built since then?”

Cas’ face softens and he moves to face Dean, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “I know, and I love what we’ve built. But I’m greedy. If I have a chance to gain four missing years with you, I can’t pass that up.”

Dean takes a deep breath, swallowing his protest. He doesn’t like the idea of Cas anywhere near Proxima equipment but he’d do the same thing in his place. “How safe is this?”

“It’s not like there’s a precedent, but Meg will be there just in case.”

That doesn’t fill Dean with the assurance Cas seems to expect.

Cas looks into his eyes. “I really want to do this, Dean. If you were in my shoes you would too.”

It’s exactly what Dean just thought so he can’t find it in him to protest. “Alright, but let’s not rush this. I wanna make sure Charlie knows what she’s doing.”

A sunny grin stretches over Cas’ face. “Deal.”

 

Three weeks of preparation and discussion pass before Meg calls with a serendipitous opportunity that hastens their timeline. A fire in one of the computer labs causes extensive smoke damage and the evacuation of the entire west wing for cleaning. When they arrive at 2:00 a.m. the building is deserted as promised, but they leave Sam to play lookout just in case while Meg sneaks them in. 

It’s eerily quiet as Meg preps Cas, swabbing his head and chest and hooking him up to various monitors. Cas catches his hand and squeezes it and Dean musters up a weak smile, hoping his worry isn’t too apparent. 

“Try to relax, Dean. Everything is going to be fine.”

Dean takes a deep breath and nods. “I know.” He sits next to the hospital bed and holds Cas’ hand, keeping up idle chatter as Charlie double checks her notes. 

Her grin is confident as she turns and says, “Okay! Let’s do this!” 

Dean steps back so Charlie can connect the implant and tries not to panic when Cas blinks a few times and then passes out. “Is he supposed to do that?”

“Yeah, it’s similar to REM sleep, don’t worry.” 

Dean paces the room anxiously as Cas continues to lay there unaware and Charlie continues to stare at the numbers scrolling by on her screen. At one point Meg calmly calls out that Cas’ blood pressure is going up, but it goes back down before Dean has a chance to panic.

After two hours of waiting, Dean's jaw aches from grinding his teeth and his stomach is in knots. He stops by the bed and asks, “Are you sure it's supposed to take this long?”

Charlie sighs. “Try to chill out dude. We're transferring a lot of information right now. It's gonna be another hour probably. But he's doing great. Try to relax, Dean, he's fine.”

“Seriously. Your pacing is giving me a fucking headache and if you don't sit down soon I'm jabbing you with a sedative,” Meg adds.

Dean nods sharply and sits down, pulling up a book on his phone, but when Charlie finally announces that they are done an hour later he's still on the same page as when he started. He hovers anxiously as Charlie unplugs Cas and shuts down the program. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“Now we bring him home and let him sleep it off. Meg and I will stay over just in case but if all goes well he'll wake up in the morning with a full set of memories from the simulation.”

They transfer Cas to the car using a wheelchair, and Dean tries not to worry about how easily Cas sleeps through the movement.

Despite Charlie's continued assurances that the deep sleep was to be expected, Dean can't help but worry as he watches Cas sleeping next to him in the bed. Dean plans and expects to stay up all night keeping an eye on him, so he's shocked when he next opens his eyes and sees Cas leaning over him, blinking sleepily.

“Hello, Dean.”

A wave of relief rolls over Dean as the tiny fear that things would backfire and Cas would forget him entirely extinguishes. “How're you feeling, Cas? Are you okay?”

Cas frowns at him groggily and leans against the headboard. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“Good.” He helps Cas drink a glass of water. “So did it work? Do you remember anything new?”

Cas blinks and laughs. “Yeah. I remember that neither of us proposed. We got drunk in Vegas and came back married.” 

Dean bites his lip. “Hey now, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep that quiet?”

“I suppose not.” Cas shakes his head and leans back, blinking up at the ceiling. “This is going to take some getting used to. It’s like I just watched fifty movies all at once.” 

“Take it easy; Charlie said you might be out of it for a while.” 

“Yeah.” Cas smiles into the distance and Dean wonders what memory he’s thinking of now. When he turns back to Dean he has tears in his eyes. “Thank you for finding me. And for fighting for us. It must have been so hard.”

Dean swallows the lump in his throat. “Hey, you would have done the same. I told you what we had was special.”

“Yes, you did.” For a long moment, Cas holds his gaze smiling, but then a look of abject disappointment crosses his face.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Dean asks, trying to sound casual and not anxious.

“The house we bought. It really was too good to be true, wasn’t it?”

Dean laughs, loud and happy and grabs Cas’ hand, kissing his knuckles. “Hey, we’re not even married yet, remember? We have time to find it again or something like it.”

Cas pulls Dean closer, tucking his head into his shoulder. “And if we can’t find a house that’s perfect then we'll build one ourselves.”

Dean smiles, kissing the top of Cas’ head. He’s right. If they can't find what they had in Valis then they'll just build it themselves. 

Dean likes the sound of that. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! This is the longest thing I have ever written and I poured a lot of myself into it. I really hope that you enjoyed it :) Title is from the song, It's Only a Paper Moon as sung by Ella Fitzgerald (among others).
> 
> Rebloggable link is [here](https://deancaspinefest.tumblr.com/post/183268765552/paper-moon-explicit-43k) if you'd like to share and come say hi to me on [tumblr](https://robotsnchicks.tumblr.com/)!


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